Recess: The Apocalypse
by Guest 1138
Summary: They were once happy kids playing at recess. Until the zombies came. Now, eight years after the initial outbreak, T.J. leads a ragged group of survivors to survive the apocalypse while he still searches for a long missing friend. But as tensions grow and enemies attacking at every turn, will T.J. and the gang survive, or are they doomed to be zombie chow?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:**

**Hey, hey, how's it going readers? Welcome to my first (and maybe last) Recess Fanfiction. You're probably here because you either like Recess, you've seen my other story I'm writing and want to read a different one by me, or a combination of both. **

**Honestly speaking though, I hadn't even heard of this show until I stumbled upon it randomly. I instantly liked it. It's one of Disney's best. And after I got started with my fanfiction writing with my Total Drama Fanfiction, I eventually decided to write one for Recess too. Now, I knew that I wanted it to be set when the kids were all old enough to be in high school. But I didn't really feel like writing a high school drama. I'm not really that guy.**

**I wanted something...different. And then I decided to put the T.J., Spinelli, and the rest of the gang and kids at Third Street School through their worst nightmare: a zombie apocalypse.**

**Now, I've done some (not much) research, and I don't think anyone's actually tried to write a zombie apocalypse fanfiction featuring the Recess characters. If there is one, then it must be either very obscure or I'm a terrible researcher. If you do happen to know of one, shoot me a PM and I'll check it out. But anyway, if by some small chance that I'm actually right for once, then this may be the first actual Zombie Fanfiction for Recess.**

**Now, as I wrote this, I had a bit of trouble with the whole thing. After all, it is hard to imagine the gang and other characters from the series fighting zombies and dying. I may even abandon this project if I run out of ideas. But I'm going to give it a go and see what people think. **

**Just to warn you all though, this fanfiction is yet another side projects to other side projects to my main writing focus. Total Drama Danger Zones will still have priority in this world of side projects, but I'll update every now and then for this story. May not be for a few months starting in June due to my summer job, but we'll see! **

**One last thing, and this goes without saying: I do not own Recess. Recess is owned by Paul and Joe...and I guess Disney too.**

**Anyway, now that I've probably written more words in this author's note than in the chapter itself, let's get started. See you on the other side!**

* * *

_Journal entry 457_

_It's been eight years since everything happened. Since the zombies came and the world came to an end. Everything just seemed so simple back then. We were just fifth graders having fun during recess. _

_Now, we are some of the last people alive. _

_Others have come to Fort Tender over the years. Tired, scared people running from their undead friends and family._

_And they're all looking to me for leadership. _

_I didn't take up leading this group easily. I was still a kid when this whole thing happened. But the others encouraged me to lead. And…it's probably what Spinelli would've wanted._

_I still get nightmares on what happened. Mikey says that it's because I haven't made peace with her death._

_No, not death. I refuse to believe that she is dead._

_Of course, Mikey says that that's part of the problem. That I need to make peace and accept that Spinelli is dead. _

_But I won't. Not until I see her rotting, zombified corpse. _

_In the early days, we still got together. The gang. Though we're never going to be all together again. Not without Spinelli. _

_But now we barely see each other. Vince is usually out scavenging for supplies or looking for survivors. Gus is busy making sure everything in Fort Tender runs smoothly. Mikey works with Pastor Prickly for their sermons. And I barely even see Gretchen anymore since she's working on her cure._

_I miss those old days back at Third Street. Back then I was making plans to solve problems on the playground. Now I make plans that could lead to people dying. _

_Everything was so simple back then. We were happy back then. _

_Now everything's gone to hell. A whole lot of people from those old days are dead or gone. _

_Sometimes I—_

A knock on the door interrupted T.J. from his thoughts. He looked up from his journal, closing it quickly. "Come in!" he called.

The door opened, and Randall Weems entered. "The latest intelligence reports, T.J.," he said, handing him a stack of papers.

"Good work, Randall," T.J. told him. "Anything of interest."

"Just the usual chaos. Marauders here and there. Some rumors of survivors. But mostly zombies."

"Has Vince's team checked in yet?"

"About an hour ago," Randall replied. "Francis said that they're going to be a little later than expected. Apparently, there was more supplies and zombies in the area than Vince expected."

"Make sure that they check in again as soon as possible," T.J. ordered. "I don't want anyone dying out there today."

"I'll tell Theresa to get word through to them," Randall said. He paused, then added. "There's nothing on Spinelli in there. I know you were wondering."

T.J. sighed. "I figured as much, Randall."

"Look, T.J.," Randall told him, "I know you're not giving up on her, but it's time to face facts. Even if she did get away from the initial outbreak, no one could survive out there this long alone."

"She could," T.J. insisted after a moment of silence. "She's the toughest kid in school."

"_Was,_" Randall corrected. "Considering there is no school and no Spinelli."

"That'll be all, Randall," said T.J.

Randall hesitated for a moment, then left T.J. alone with his thoughts once more.

T.J. sighed, rubbing his ragged brown hair. On the day of the outbreak, he had lost his old baseball cap in all the chaos. He missed that hat, but not as much as he missed Spinelli.

He glanced at the photo that was on his desk. The one that had all six of them together. One of the only things that he had been able to save before the apocalypse.

He traced the image with his fingers, imaging what Spinelli would say if she saw him moping. Probably something angry but motivating.

T.J. stood up. Just thinking about Spinelli again made him feel even worse about losing her. He needed a walk to clear his head.

T.J. walked out of his office, heading in no particular direction. Along the way, he passed by several other survivors, who nodded in recognition at him or said hello.

Fort Tender had originally been a military base. All the military personal that had been stationed there had been relocated to places that were heavily infested with zombies. None of them came back. For all T.J. knew, there _was_ no military left. He certainly hadn't seen anyone.

As he walked, he passed by the shooting range, where he could see several people, including Butch, shooting at various targets; the cafeteria, where people were enjoying the food that had been scrounged up; and the sparring room, where different members of their fighting force were sparring each other.

Finally, he stopped in the control room, where Theresa was working alone at her spot.

"Oh, hello T.J.," she said, swiveling around in her wheelchair to face him. She grabbed a handful of chips from a bag next to her and stuffed them into her mouth.

"Did Randall give you a message to relay to Vince's team?" T.J. asked.

"Oh yes. Vince said that he and his team were on their way back," Theresa replied. "They found several crates of food and weapons."

"Good," T.J. said. "Make sure that Vince reports to be when he gets back."

"Of course."

T.J. turned to go, but paused for a moment. "Do you think that it's crazy for me to keep thinking that Spinelli is still out there?"

Theresa thought about it for a moment. "I've seen you and your friends pull off some amazing things at Third Street," she eventually said. "Even when things seemed hopeless, you still believed that you could do it. So it's completely fine for you to keep hoping that she's still alive. Sure, it seems like she's dead, but there may still be a chance that she's alive. And even if it's just you that believes it, then there's still hope."

T.J. smiled. Theresa was always optimistic about everything. She was always kind and sweet, even back when she was known as Cornchip Girl back at Third Street. He could see exactly why Gus had a crush on her.

And thanks to her, he knew exactly what he had to do.

"Thanks, Theresa," he told her, leaving the control room.

"Good luck, T.J.," Theresa said after him.

* * *

T.J. was waiting in the garage when the large truck pulled in. As usual, Francis was driving, with Vince riding shotgun. On the back of the truck were Ashley and the Diggers.

Vince immediately saw T.J. waiting for them and narrowed his eyes. "Unload the truck," he ordered the others, getting out of the vehicle and walking over to T.J.

"Teej, man, what's wrong?" he asked. "You never wait around for us to come back from our mission. You just wait for me to send my report to your office."

"Vince buddy, I need you to get everyone together," T.J. told him. "Gus, Mikey, Gretch—everyone."

"Why? What's wrong?"

T.J. took a deep breath. "We're going home."

* * *

**Wow. Short beginning I know. But the chapters will get longer...in theory. I wanted to start out with a short one mainly to get you all a feel for the situation. And wow is this situation bad. **

**Before you all go crying on the reviews and flood my message box with complaints that Spinelli is seemingly dead, I'm going to just ask you a question: Do you really think that I would kill my favorite member of the gang a), off scene, and b), in the past? Do you? **

**Well, given that this is the apocalypse, it may be possible. Or it may not be. Who knows!**

**I eventually decided to write my own zombie fanfiction taking place in a cartoon after reading hyperborea's Total Drama zombie apocalypse fanfiction titled "Undead Drama" for the umpteenth time. Go check it out sometime; it's really an amazing story. **

**There will be a later chapter that will be a flashback chapter explaining exactly how the gang first encountered the zombie apocalypse and how they got to this new Fort Tender. **

**Yes, a bunch of side characters are dead at this point. I saved several of my favorites along with a few others so I can torture them more. Expect maybe a few more of them to die. Or not. Literally haven't really thought much on this story past a certain point. Actually, I literally just came up with how the outbreak started today, and boy is it going to blow you away. It does have something to do with a certain thing from the series. **

**Yes, I'm shipping Gus and Cornchip Girl. Why? From what I've seen of them together in the series, it does make sense. **

**I've written up some character descriptions on how I imagine that the characters would look like at this point. You'll be able to find these on my profile. I'll add more as new characters are introduced. **

**Yes, I will probably add some OCs into here, simply because I need more people to interact with the gang...and because the zombies need more brains to munch on. **

**I think that's about it. Don't forget to leave a review (they let me know if I'm doing a good/bad/worse/deadly job), and stay tuned for Chapter II, coming sometime in the future. Until next time, this is Guest 1138 reminding you to never play hopscotch on the highway. Ciao!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: **

**What's this? Two chapters in one week? Does this crazy guy ever sleep?**

**The nice thing about this fanfiction is that, unlike my TD one, I can update this one quicker as it does not really follow an episodic format and I don't have to wait a bit for people to guess which character is going home next. Anyway, here's the next chapter of Recess: The Apocalypse. **

**As a reminder, I do not own Recess. Those rights are owned by Paul and Joe...and I guess Disney as well. **

* * *

"What do you mean we're going home?" Vince asked.

"I mean I want to go back to Third Street," T.J. told him. "The five of us. And maybe a few of the others too if they want to come."

"Teej, come on man, you know as well as I do that there's nothing there but bad memories. What would be the point in going back?"

"I don't know, maybe there's some extra supplies there that no one's gotten to yet."

Vince shook his head. "No, no," he said. "This isn't about supplies, is it? It's about her, isn't it?"

"About who?" T.J. asked innocently.

"Don't play dumb, T.J. I know the real reason you want to go back is because of Spinelli."

"So, what if it is?"

"Look man, I want to believe that she's alive too, but it's time to face facts. She's dead. She died at the start of all of this."

"I refuse to believe that," T.J. insisted. "She's alive. I know it."

"Stop," Vince told him. "You're acting crazy, man. She's long dead. You're not going to find anything there but zombies."

"Vince, why are you so certain that she's dead?"

"Because she couldn't have survived all these years. She probably got turned within those first few minutes."

"But we didn't see it. We didn't see her at all since the first zombies showed up."

"Because she got swarmed and eaten! Face it, Teej, she's gone. There's no point in going back there."

"Going back where?" This came from Digger Sam. He and the others on Vince's team had finished unloading the truck and had approached the two.

"Back to Third Street," T.J. explained. "For a mission."

"Third Street? There's not going to be a lot there," Digger Dave.

"Perhaps not," Francis interrupted. "There could possibly be some supplies in the old Hustler Warehouse. And given that there hasn't been very much activity in that area, there shouldn't be any zombies."

"That's just what they want you to think."

T.J. held back a groan as they all turned to see Butch leaning against a nearby wall, a toothpick in his mouth.

"What do you mean, Butch?" Vince asked.

"Word on the street is that the area around Third Street school is crawling with nothing but brain eating zombies and marauders so crazy they'll kill anything they see," Butch explained. "Anyone that goes there faces certain death."

"Well, that's where we're going," T.J. told him.

"I don't know," Digger Dave said. "I'm not sure a few pieces of supplies are worth fighting a whole city of zombies and bandits."

"It's not about the supplies," Vince said. "Teej wants to search for her."

Realization dawned on everyone.

"Okay, yes, I want to go back to look for Spinelli," T.J. said. "She's out there. I know it."

"T.J, you do realize that she's dead, right?" Digger Sam asked.

"Yeah, she's got to be zombie chow by now," Digger Dave agreed.

"I don't believe that," T.J. told them, "and you all don't have to come. I'll just take the gang."

"And that right there is also a problem," Vince said. "You know as well as I do that Gretchen is too busy in the lab, Mikey's got sermons to preach, and Gus isn't going to leave the base."

T.J. was beginning to get irritated. "Fine," he said, gritting his teeth. "It'll be just the two of us."

"Teej—"

"What? You saying you don't want to come?"

"There's no point," Vince told him. "And it's too big of a risk to go on just because you won't accept reality."

"Fine," T.J. snapped. "I'll just go on my own."

"That's a very bad idea—" Vince started to say, but T.J. pushed past him.

"Save it, Vince," growled T.J. "I guess friendship doesn't matter that much to you. Because I know if your positions were reversed, Spinelli would come to your rescue."

T.J. stormed off, ignoring any protests from Vince or his team. He wasn't in the mood for talking anymore.

He didn't blame Vince all that much though. He knew that the chances of Spinelli being still alive after eight years were slim. But he couldn't give up. He wouldn't give up.

He had to find her and tell her how sorry he was.

* * *

Eventually, T.J. found himself in the Memorial Garden. He stood for a moment, gazing out at the dozens of graves that had been built for everyone that had died.

As he walked, he passed by several names, many of which were familiar to him.

Swinger Girl. Upside-down Girl. Lawson. Mundy. Menlo. Kurst. Miss Grotke. Muriel Finster. Ashleys.

And finally, T.J. stopped at the one grave he knew didn't belong in the Memorial Garden. The one that said "Ashley Spinelli."

T.J. hadn't wanted this grave to be put up. After all, there was no proof that she was dead. But the others had insisted. So they had put one up anyway.

T.J. placed his hand on the gravestone and got down on his knees. "I'm coming for you, Spinelli," he said softly. "I'm coming to find you. Because I know you're alive."

He had often come to this grave to talk. It was pretty much the closest thing he had to talking to Spinelli.

He rubbed the grave slightly and stood up. No more pity talking to a rock. At least not until he knew what Spinelli's fate was for certain.

And with any luck, that answer would come tomorrow.

* * *

T.J. got up early the next morning to go on his mission. He first visited the armory and picked up some extra ammo for his pistol. After a moment's thought, he also grabbed a rifle and slung it on his back.

He knew that going in alone wasn't a good idea. In fact, it was a near suicidal idea. But this was something he had to do. He needed closure on everything. And if he had to do it alone, he would.

However, as he approached the garage, he heard various voices and sounds of people preparing weapons. When he entered the garage, his eyes widened as he saw Vince and his team preparing a truck.

"What's going on here?" he asked, walking up to Vince.

"We're coming with you, Teej," Vince replied.

"You are?"

"Yeah." Vince looked at him. "I thought about what you said…and you're right. I should be caring about friendship. And even though there's no chance she's alive, we should be certain. And maybe after this, you'll finally accept the truth about her."

T.J. would've made an argument about Vince's claim that she was dead, but he held his tongue.

"Glad to have you, Vince," he said, shaking his hand.

A hint of a smile spread upon Vince's face. Then he turned back to his team, who were all boarding the truck.

"Let's move it out, team," he ordered. "It's time to go back to school."

* * *

**Yeah, I know this chapter was pretty much as short as the other one. The next chapter will hopefully be longer _and_ will also contain the first zombie fight of the story, where you'll get to see these beloved characters kill the undead. **

**If you're wondering if you should be imagining Butch's theme music in the brief scene with him in it, I certainly did. **

**Also, I'm sure some of you may be saddened at the fact that several characters from the series are already dead. Rest assured that I will be going into detail as to how everything played out in a later chapter.**

**Not much else to say here I don't think. Remember to review with your thoughts on everything you've read so far. Until next time, this is Guest 1138 reminding you to never throw a balloon into a field of porcupines if you want it to remain intact. Ciao!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

**Another chapter? Man, I'm just hashing these things out quick, aren't I?**

**As promised, this will be a longer chapter and includes the first zombie fighting/chase scene of the story. Not much else to say, so here we go!**

* * *

No one spoke on the ride back to Third Street. There wasn't really anything to talk about anyway. They all knew that what they were doing was dangerous. They all knew the risks.

T.J. fiddled with his pistol as Francis drove the truck. He was both happy and terrified at what they would find back home. He was praying that he would find what he was looking for.

As they got closer to the town, T.J. began seeing the ruined remains of familiar sights along the road. There were also the usual signs of destruction everywhere. Wreckages of cars. Buildings in ruins. Burnt patches of grass.

And corpses. Lots and lots of corpses.

Many of the bodies that lined the roads and ditches, T.J. knew, had once been ordinary men, women, and children. Then they had been brutally murdered by either marauders or zombies. Or they had been zombies themselves before someone else killed them.

Finally, T.J. saw in the distance what was left of Third Street school. It actually didn't seem all that damaged. The windows were all broken, and several pieces of the wall were broken off, but other than that, it seemed pretty much intact.

"Pull up to the school," T.J. told Francis, pointing to the school entrance. Francis nodded and pulled the truck up to the entrance, skidding on the grass before stopping.

Everyone jumped out of the truck and raised their weapons, in case their arrival had been heard by zombies. After a minute of silence, Vince gestured to the roof.

"Scout it," he ordered. Ashley nodded and ran for the wall of the school, scaling it quickly. Within seconds, she disappeared over the side of the roof.

"How many words has she spoken exactly in the past eight years?" T.J. asked.

"Less then fifty or so," Vince replied. "Her silence actually makes her a good scout."

"I know, I know. I've read your reports."

About a minute later, Ashley appeared and made several hand signals.

"Looks like there are a few zombies a few blocks down," said Vince. "Dormant for now. But if we make too much noise, they'll wake up for sure."

"Only a few zombies? That's all?"

"Apparently. Looks like Butch was wrong."

"Has there ever been a time where he's been right about these kinds of things?"

Vince thought about it for a moment. "No, not really," he admitted.

He turned to the rest of his team. "Get to the Hustler Warehouse and gather anything useful you can find."

"You got it, Vince." Francis motioned for the others to follow him.

"So, where do we start?" Vince asked T.J. after the others were gone.

"The playground," T.J. told him. "That's the last place we saw her, after all. So that's the first place we look."

Vince nodded and the two headed around the school.

The playground was in worse shape than the school. Old Rusty had fallen apart, there were several new, rotting holes in the Cheese Box, and there was nothing left of the Ashleys' clubhouse but a pile of tires.

The playground. The spot where it all began. Even now T.J. could remember that day. The day that everything changed.

* * *

_It was supposed to be another regular day on the playground at Third Street School. The Diggers were digging, Swinger Girl was swinging, and King Freddie II was overlooking his dominion. _

_At the basketball court, T.J. and his friends were playing an intense basketball game against Lawson and his crew. T.J. himself currently had the ball and was trying to dodge Lawson. _

_"__You're going down, Dipweiler," Lawson said with a sneer. _

_"__Not today, Lawson," T.J. replied, throwing the ball over Lawson's head, where it landed right into the waiting arms of Spinelli. She dribbled it down the court and passed it to Vince, who then threw into the basket. Swish!_

_The gang all cheered and high fived each other. It was another victory against Lawson. _

_For one final moment, everything was perfect. _

_Then…everything changed. _

_The kids heard a loud scream._

_"__That sounded like one of the Ashleys," T.J. said._

_"__So? They probably saw a mouse or something," Spinelli remarked. _

_"__We should still see what's up," T.J. told her, already starting to run in the direction of the scream. After exchanging a look, the rest of the gang followed. _

_A crowd had already formed around the outside of the Ashleys' clubhouse. In the center of the crowd were Ashley A, Ashley B, and Ashley T, who were huddled around Ashley Q, who was clutching her arm in pain. _

_"__What happened?" T.J. asked as he and the gang pushed their way to the front of the crowd. _

_"__One of those Kindergarteners, like, totally got into our clubhouse and bit Ashley Q!" Ashley A exclaimed. _

_"__So? The Kindergarteners go after people all the time," Vince remarked. _

_"__But he was like, so totally dirty," said Ashley B._

_"__And grunting like a monster," added Ashley T. _

_"__And his eyes were all, like, red and stuff," said Ashley A. _

_"__That still doesn't really sound unusual," Vince said._

_"__Yeah, the little guy was probably sick," Spinelli added. _

_"__But like, Ashley Q doesn't seem to good," protested Ashley B. _

_It was true. Ashley Q was now moaning in pain, sweat glistening on her brow. _

_"__Maybe the sun is getting to her," Gretchen suggested. "It is, after all, a hot day." _

_"__Or it could be something far worse," Butch said off to the side. _

_"__Whatcha talking about, Butch?" T.J. asked._

_Butch removed the toothpick from his mouth. "Word on the street is that all the Kindergarteners have been acting more savage than usual today," he explained. "Biting each other, trying to bite the teacher. They've been pounding on their gate for the past hour." _

_"__What does that have to do with all of this?" Spinelli asked. _

_"__They looked just like the one that attacked here," Butch went on. "And word on the street is that stuff like this is happening all over town. People going completely nuts, biting their friends and family. And when they bite someone, they turn them into one of them. And they aren't stopped by anything. Some say that they're not even human. Some say that they have become…zombies." _

_"__Noooooooooo!" Mikey exclaimed. _

_"__Oh come on, guys, Butch is just messing with us," T.J. assured his friends. _

_"__Am I?" Butch challenged._

_Suddenly, Ashley Q started spasming, writhing back in forth. The other Ashleys all screamed and backed away. _

_"__What's happening to her?" Gus asked in terror._

_Ashley Q writhed around for a few more seconds, then went completely still, eyes closed. _

_"__A-Ashley Q?" Ashley A asked tentatively, reaching a hand out. _

_Ashley Q's eyes shot open, now bloodshot. With a snarl, Ashley Q jumped up and sank her teeth into Ashley A's neck. _

_Ashley A screamed, along with everyone else. _

_"__Told ya," Butch said, already running away. _

_"__Run!" someone shouted, and the crowd of kids turned and ran back towards the school. _

_"__Come on guys!" T.J. yelled, leading the gang into the crowd of stampeding students. _

* * *

"Teej?" Vince put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You okay, man?"

"Yeah," T.J. replied, snapping back to reality.

"Then come on. Let's find proof of Spinelli's death and meet back with the others."

T.J. considered pointing out that, once again, there was no proof that Spinelli was dead, but decided against it. He couldn't waste time arguing with Vince about this. There was work to be done.

Suddenly, Vince stopped and knelt on the ground.

"What is it?" T.J. asked.

"Footprints. Fresh ones too. Heading off into town."

"Spinelli?"

"No. There are several sets." Vince stood up. "My best guess is that there are a few marauders in town."

"How many?"

"At least four."

T.J. nodded and gripped his pistol tighter.

Marauders were a bunch of random survivors that wandered the ruined remains of society, killing and plundering anything that got in their way. Generally, they had been driven insane from all the chaos and zombie attacks.

"We should be on our guard," Vince said. "Those marauders could be anywhere."

The words were barely out of his mouth when gunfire started echoing in the distance.

"What the hell?" T.J. asked.

Vince pulled out a walkie. "Francis, what's going on?" he asked.

**"****That wasn't us, Vince," **Francis replied.

"Well whoever that is, they're going to wake up the zombies," Vince said.

Sure enough, they heard the low moans and growls as nearby zombies stirred and started running for the sounds of gunfire.

Vince cursed. "Francis, hurry up with those supplies!" He whipped out his pistols and took aim around him.

"We can't leave yet," T.J. insisted. "We still have to—"

That's when the zombies started coming over the nearby wall.

Each one was filthy, with torn clothes and decaying flesh hanging off in patches. Their eyes were blank and bloodshot, and their snarling mouths were filled with sharp teeth.

"Damn it to hell!" Vince yelled, turning his pistols and firing several rounds at the approaching horde. T.J. raised his pistol and did the same. Many of their shots hit the zombies in the chest or arms. A few hit their heads, bringing them down for good.

"We're going to get overrun!" Vince yelled. He turned to head back to the truck only to see that zombies were coming back the way that they had come.

"We're cut off!" Vince called to T.J. "Let's head for the town! Circle back and meet up with Francis and the others!"

"Lead the way, then!" T.J. replied, reloading his pistol.

The two friends leaped over the wall on the other side of the playground, trying to escape from the zombies. As they ran, more and more zombies joined the chase.

"I thought Ashley said there were only _a few_ zombies in the area!" T.J. yelled.

"Well clearly more of them were hidden out of sight from the roof!" Vince replied. He fired backwards at the rushing horde, taking out a few more zombies in the process.

"There's too many of them!" T.J. yelled.

"Gee, you think!" Vince replied. "We're going to have to split up!"

"Split up! Are you crazy!"

"Trust me, Teej! If we split up, that'll split the zombies up too and make them easier to handle! We use it all the time!"

"Vince—"

"Go! We'll meet back at the truck later!" Before T.J. could stop him, Vince had turned down a random street, causing several more of the zombies to follow him.

"God damnit Vince!" T.J. yelled after him, turning down a different street. He was going to have a serious conversation with Vince about who was actually in charge of things.

He ran down the street, pursued by even more zombies. He didn't dare stop to reload his weapon. One wrong move and the zombies would be on him, and that would be that.

His pistol clicked empty, so he threw that at the horde and grabbed the rifle off his back and continued to fire back. But despite his best efforts, the zombies chasing him just kept coming.

"Stupid undead zombies," he muttered under his breath. He needed headshots to take them down, but he had no time to aim without stopping.

He turned one last corner and found himself in a dead-end alley. "Oh, come on!" he yelled in annoyance. Of course he had to run into a dead-end alley just like the heroes did in every horror film in existence.

The zombies rounded the corner behind and started charging him. T.J. cursed and fired back at them. At least now he could actually kill them now.

Apparently, Vince had drawn off more zombies that T.J. had thought, because there were a lot fewer than when the chase had started. Or maybe he was a better shot running for his life than he realized.

T.J. kept shooting, taking down zombies one by one. However, when there were only about five zombies left, T.J.'s rifle clicked empty. He cursed again, throwing the rifle aside and drawing his combat knife.

He took a step back and tripped on a loose piece of gravel. He fell back, hitting his head on the concrete. Pain exploded through his head and he instantly saw stars.

The five remaining zombies surged towards him, ready to tear his flesh from his body and turn him into one of them. T.J. struggled to rise, or do anything to get away from them, but it was no use. His body wouldn't obey him.

And then more gunshots rang out as someone leaped down from above and shot four of the five zombies from behind. For the last zombie, this newcomer pulled out a machete and chopped its head off.

The last thing T.J. saw before he blacked out was the figure walking steadily towards him.

* * *

Vince's pistols were both out of ammo, and he had no time to stop to reload. So he kept running away from the dozen or so zombies still chasing him.

Back during his Third Street days, Vince had been pretty much the best athlete in school. He could outrun just about everyone. Of course, back then it was just about getting first place, not about life and death.

Vince rounded another corner and brightened to see Francis and Ashley waiting with their weapons. The moment the zombies appeared, they opened fire; Francis with his twin machine guns and Ashley with her sniper rifle. In less than a minute, the zombies were all dead.

"Thanks guys," Vince panted, reloading his pistols. "That was a close one."

"We should get moving," Francis said. "All this gunfire will have attracted the attention of more zombies. Where's T.J.?"

Vince activated his walkie again. "T.J., do you copy?" He was met with nothing but static.

"Teej? You there?"

Again, only static.

Vince cursed under his breath. "He must've dropped his walkie, or he's still running from zombies," he said. "We got to go help him out."

"Ashley, go with him," Francis ordered. "I'll help the Diggers get the last of the supplies to the truck."

Ashley nodded, and followed Vince back the way they had come.

Vince hoped that they were not too late.

* * *

When T.J. woke, he found himself staring at a pair of boots. A very familiar pair of boots.

As he blinked his eyes and tried to get a better view of his surroundings, the pair of boots rolled him over on his back.

"You had quite a fall there, buddy," a familiar voice told him as a face came into T.J.'s line of sight.

His eyes widened in shock. Her face was dirty and bruised, but he recognized it instantly. He knew who it was.

"Spinelli?"

* * *

**Cue the fanfare! Spinelli is alive and well!...or at least as well as anyone can be during the apocalypse. Of course, none of you are surprised by her being alive, because let's face it: why would I kill her off page? **

**Hope you enjoyed the first little flashback moment. Actually, that flashback moment was going to be my original start to this story, with it then progressing to the present and following both what T.J. and Spinelli are doing in their different locations. I decided to change it and mainly focus on T.J. so that I could leave what Spinelli's been up to and how she survived the past eight years shrouded in mystery. **

**Next time: Reunions, more zombies, and maybe a narrow escape or two. **

**Anywho, don't forget to drop a review so you can yell at me about how I'm messing everything up. I know I'm typing these out so fast that there's barely any time for a review, but there may be a few more days wait until the next chapter is up for this story so I can get back to writing the next chapter of my TD fanfic. Until next time, this is Guest 1138 reminding you to always wear sunscreen when going out to play in the hot sun. Ciao!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:**

**Hey all! It's me again with another mostly horrible chapter of this Recess Apocalypse fanfic. Not much happening here, just some dialog and emotional yaddah yaddahing. So let's get to it!**

* * *

T.J. blinked again. Yes, it was Spinelli all right. She looked almost exactly like she had eight years ago, albeit taller, dirtier, and a bit more muscular. Her eyes also seemed hardened by experiences known only to her.

"How do you know my name?" Spinelli asked. T.J. realized then that she hadn't recognized him.

"Spinelli, it's me, T.J.," he said.

This caused her to grab him, lift him off his feet, and slam him against the wood wall. "Tell the truth," she growled.

"I-I am!" T.J. gagged. "It's me, Spinelli!"

"Impossible. T.J. Detweiler died eight years ago. Who are you, really?"

"I'm—gah—telling the truth!" T.J. wheezed. "I'm alive! We're all alive! Me, Vince, Mikey, Gretchen, Gus—we're all okay!"

After a moment's hesitation, Spinelli let T.J. go. He collapsed to the ground, wheezing.

"If you're really T.J.," Spinelli said, "Tell me something that only he and I would know."

"Seriously?"

"Do it!"

"Okay, okay!" T.J. exclaimed thinking back to their time at Third Street before the zombies came. There wasn't really that much that he shared with her alone. Most of what they did they did with their other friends too.

And then he remembered something. Something important that only she knew.

"Back in fourth grade," he said, "The experiment we got roped into doing. The kiss. The one that we both said was disgusting."

"Because it was," Spinelli interrupted. "What's that got to do with this?"

"Because it wasn't disgusting," T.J. told her. "You told me that later. You know how we both really felt about. We both said—"

"Stop," Spinelli told him. "I've heard enough."

"Heard enough?" T.J. repeated. "So you—"

T.J. was cut off as Spinelli embraced him. "It's really you," she breathed. "I thought you were dead."

T.J. struggled a bit. "Choking…can't breathe," he gasped. Spinelli's grip was incredibly strong.

Spinelli broke off the embrace. Then she punched him in the arm.

"Ow!" T.J. yelled in pain.

"That's for leaving me behind," Spinelli told him. "And _that's_ for making me think you were dead," she added, punching him in his other shoulder.

"Ow! Okay, I'm sorry!" T.J. yelled.

"Good." Spinelli crossed her arms. "Now tell me why the hell it took you eight years to come back here."

* * *

"T.J.!" Vince called. "Teej, where are you?"

Ashley grabbed Vince's arm and shook her head.

"Right, sorry," Vince said. "Zombies everywhere."

She made several hand motions.

"No, I don't think the zombies got him," he told her. "He probably just dropped his walkie somewhere."

More hand signals.

"Because this is different!" Vince exclaimed. "He's only been gone for less than an hour. Spinelli's been gone for eight years. Besides, you also believed that she was dead."

Ashley rolled her eyes, then pointed up to the roofs.

"Fine. Go scout the area. See if you can find him."

Ashley nodded, then headed up to scale a nearby building. Vince continued alone on the street.

He knew that he was taking a risk going to look for T.J. alone. Not only was it dangerous to go solo—especially during these dark times—but if he didn't get back to Fort Tender soon, night would come. And nobody wanted to be outside at night. That's when the zombies were the strongest and more in numbers.

Vince was worried about T.J. He had never been the same since the zombies had come and Spinelli had died. After that, he had to grow up fast and take charge before everything dissolved into anarchy.

The past eight years had changed them all, but T.J. had clearly taken everything the hardest. Spinelli not being there didn't help things either.

And now he was obsessed with finding her, despite the fact that she had to be dead.

Deep down, Vince knew that he should feel bad about not even caring that a close friend was gone. But he couldn't worry about that. He had to think about the living rather than mourn the dead.

His thoughts with interrupted by a click of a gun behind him. "Turn around," a voice told him. "And don't try anything funny."

Vince froze, then slowly did what he was asked. He found himself facing a man with a bandana over his mouth and a shotgun in his hands.

"What's a little boy like you doing in a place like this?" the man asked.

Vince remained silent.

"Aw, not very talkative, are we?" The man pushed his gun into him. "We'll see if that changes when the Messiah sees you."

Vince continued to remain silent. Partly because there was no way that he was going to tell this obvious marauder anything, but mostly because he had seen Ashley on the roof right behind him.

Quieter than a cat, Ashley leaped down behind the man, sword drawn, and slit his throat. Blood spurted out his neck, splatting onto Vince's clothes as the man dropped dead.

"Thanks," Vince thanked her. Ashley saluted in response.

"Any sign of them?" he then asked.

She made several gestures.

"Dead zombies shot in the back? Where at?"

She pointed behind him.

"How far down?"

More gestures.

"I know he was being chased by zombies. But he could've lost them and shot them in the back as they passed."

Ashley made more hand signals.

"Yes, I suppose it could've been marauders, but we still need to look anyway."

Vince turned around to continue walking but stopped as soon as he saw the two other men round the corner, weapons raised. Thinking quickly, he raised his own rifle.

_BANG!_

* * *

"They put you in charge of a base called Fort Tender?"

"It was chaotic," T.J. admitted. "There were only a couple of us left at first."

"And even after you dug down, you still didn't think of coming back here until now?"

T.J. looked down at his shoes. "Part of me believed you were dead, I guess. Or maybe it was fear of finding out the truth. I don't know. I'm sorry, Spinelli."

She sighed. "It's okay, T.J. I thought you were dead too."

"Why?"

She walked over to a broken desk and took something from a drawer. "I found this," she said, tossing him something red and ratty.

T.J.'s eyes widened when he caught it. "My cap?"

"The one thing you would never leave behind under any circumstances," said Spinelli.

T.J brushed off some of the dust on the cap. "You kept it all this time?"

"It was all I had left of you."

_BANG_

Both of them jumped at the sound of the gunshot.

"Where did that come from?" T.J. asked.

Ignoring him, Spinelli went through an opening. T.J. followed her out and saw her peering through a telescope.

It was then that he realized where exactly they were. "Is this…the treehouse?" he asked in astonishment.

"I needed a place above ground to hide out from the zombies," Spinelli explained, not taking her eyes off the telescope. "You clearly weren't going to use this place, after all."

That brought a bit of a smile to T.J.'s face. He missed statements like that from Spinelli.

"Is that…_Vince?"_ she suddenly asked. "And Ashley T?"

"What? Where?"

"Take a look." Spinelli stepped aside, letting T.J. look through the telescope. When he did, he saw both Vince and Ashley on their knees with their hands over their heads. In front of them were two armed men in ragged clothes.

"Who are the guys guarding them?" T.J. asked.

"Marauders come through here all the time," Spinelli told him. "It's probably a group of them."

"Well, they're taking Vince and Ashley captive."

"So," Spinelli said, giving him a determined smirk. "Let's go save their asses."

* * *

**Like I said, not much for this chapter except a happy reunion between Spinelli and T.J.. Oh, and the whole thing with Vince and Ashley getting caught by bad guys. I will say right now that the group of marauders that these particular bad guys belong to will have a major role in this story. **

**Not really much else to say, I guess. Leave your reviews and questions in the review section, and until next time, this is Guest 1138, reminding you to always go for the head when it comes to fighting monsters and Mad Titans. Ciao!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

**Hey guys! Here's another chapter for you. Hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

"Do you actually have a plan?" T.J. asked as he followed Spinelli back into the treehouse.

"Yeah. We go in, kill the morons holding Vince captive, and get the hell out of this damn city," Spinelli told him, grabbing two knives off the wall and sticking them in the back of her belt.

"That's not a plan!" T.J. protested.

"So? You got a better one?" she retorted.

"Well…"

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Spinelli crossed the tiny room over to a large chest against the wall, throwing it open.

"Grab some weapons," she ordered, grabbing a large rifle from the chest and cocking it. "We leave in five."

T.J. peered into the chest and saw, to his astonishment, dozens of guns and hundreds of ammo boxes inside.

"Where did you get all of this?" he asked.

"You'd be surprised at how many people got killed coming through this way," was all she would say.

T.J. sighed and pulled out a pistol from the chest.

* * *

Vince grunted in pain as the two marauders shoved him and Ashley to their knees inside the ruined building, where more men and women were already set up.

"Where'd you find these two, Boris?" one of the other men asked.

"Down the road a bit," the larger man, Boris, replied. "They killed Quinn."

"You're kidding."

"Damn serious."

"The Messiah aint gonna like that."

"That's why we're taking them to him. He'll judge them fairly and see their souls sent to Hell after execution."

Vince and Ashley exchanged a look.

"What do we do with them until then?"

"Keep em here. Look for any others roaming around."

"You really think there's more with all the damn zombies everywhere?"

Boris shrugged. "Only one way to find out. The more we find, the more the Messiah has to judge. Who knows. If there are others, they may want to join us."

Ashley gave Vince a secret gesture that he translated as _"Religious marauders." _

Vince had to agree with her. Whoever these guys were, they were definitely highly religious. Which was a major problem. Vince and his team had encountered many different survivors and marauders over the years. The religious ones were always the craziest and the most dangerous.

Their only hope was for them to be saved by the others. Unfortunately, their captors had taken their walkies, so there was no way for Francis or the Diggers to reach them. And if they got taken by surprise too… well, then T.J., wherever he was, would be on his own.

* * *

Spinelli took the lead as they headed back into town towards the last place that they had seen Vince and Ashley. T.J. stayed close behind her, still it a bit of a daze seeing his old friend alive and seemingly well.

But despite her saying that she was fine, T.J. knew that she was lying. Even Spinelli, easily one of the toughest kids at Third Street, was having a tough time handling everything that had happened. And she may still be harboring a bit of anger at him for being left behind.

T.J. didn't blame her. If their roles had been reversed, he probably would be furious too. He just hoped that they could work through all that without too much pain to him.

Spinelli suddenly stopped and ducked at the corner of a wall. T.J. joined her and peered over her shoulder.

Down the next alley were two zombies, messily feeding on a corpse. So far, they hadn't noticed the two.

T.J. was about to suggest they go around quietly, but before he could open his mouth to speak, Spinelli was already creeping down the alley, silently drawing her machete out of its sheath.

"What are you doing?" he hissed. She ignored him, getting closer to the zombies. When she was right behind them, she swung her machete, cutting the first zombie's head clean off.

The second zombie jerked and rose up, startled by the noise, and lunged at her. Spinelli responded by jabbing her blade straight into the zombie's brain, causing a bit of blood splatter on herself and the surrounding walls.

T.J.'s jaw almost dropped as Spinelli calmly walked back to him, wiping the zombie blood off her machete using her jacket sleeve.

"What?" she asked, sheathing the blade. "It's two less zombies we're going to have to kill later."

T.J. cringed slightly in his mind. Spinelli had no idea that Gretchen was currently working on a cure back at Fort Tender. If she came up with something, then they could actually save the infected without actually killing them.

There came a rattling sound from nearby. Spinelli froze, then pulled out her pistol. T.J. did the same.

Spinelli counted off on her fingers silently. _One…two…three!_ They jumped, pointing their weapons towards the sound to see…a black cat with a white stripe running down its back.

T.J. lowered his gun. "That…is a cat," he commented.

The cat meowed in response, then hopped up onto a fire escape and vanished from sight.

"That was embarrassing," T.J. said.

Spinelli just rolled her eyes and kept walking. T.J. sighed and followed her. Before long, they had reached the spot where Vince and Ashley had been taken.

"Which way do you think they went?" T.J. asked

"Probably deeper into the city. They're going to be camped out somewhere to keep away from the zombies," Spinelli replied, scanning the rooftops for signs of movement.

"Where would that be?"

Spinelli shrugged. "There are dozens of well defended spots all over town. They could be anywhere."

"Or right behind you," a deep voice said as a gun was cocked. "Now turn around. Slowly. No tricks."

T.J.'s heart started to beat harder as he slowly put his hands up and turned around to face the man in the ripped hoodie and shotgun. Spinelli, however, didn't move.

"Hey! You too, girly!" The man grabbed Spinelli's shoulder and forced her to turn around.

At that moment, she grabbed the man's shotgun and forced it up, setting it off with a _bang!_ The two struggled, but the nimbler Spinelli won the fight, forcing the man down with a punch to the face.

She placed a foot on his chest. "Where are your prisoners?" she demanded.

"I'll never talk," the man growled. So Spinelli pressed harder.

"Talk! Or I'll feed you to the zombies!" Spinelli yelled.

"Spinelli," T.J. tried to say, placing a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged him off.

"Last chance!" she ordered.

"Okay! Okay!" the man pleaded. "We've got them at some old convenience store!"

"Kelso's?" Spinelli asked.

The man nodded vigorously. "Yeah! Yeah! Kelso's."

"Thanks for the tip," Spinelli said. Then, to T.J.'s shock, she leaned down and snapped the man's neck.

"Spinelli!" he cried. "What the hell was that?"

"What? He tried to take us prisoner!"

"So? That doesn't give you the right to kill him."

"If we had let him go, he'd run straight to his buddies and warn them that we're coming. If we had tied him up, the zombies would've gotten him. If anything, I saved him from becoming zombie food. Now, we know where they're at, so let's move." She turned and started marching away.

T.J. stared after her before eventually following, not even really sure now if this Spinelli was everything he had wanted to find.

* * *

**Wow. Brutal execution brought to you by Spinelli. But just how brutal and edgy has she become? Or was she always like this and T.J. just didn't notice all that much? **

**Just some of the questions that may be answered as we get on through this story. **

**By the way, in case you were wondering what kind of zombies these are closest to, I've decided that they probably mostly resemble the zombies seen in World War Z (which had a sequel planned, but it got cancelled. Sad.). Or maybe Zombieland (which DOES have a sequel planned for later this year.). **

**Anyway, be sure to leave those reviews, smack that follow button if you want, and stay tuned for later updates. I might be able to get one more chapter in before my summer hiatus due to my summer job in low internet zone. Just to be clear: this story is NOT dead (or undead) even when I fail to update for months over this summer. **

**Got it? Good. Until next time, this is Guest 1138, reminding you to not drive off cliffs. Ciao!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **

**I find it funny that when I started this story, I said I wouldn't work on it as much so I could focus more on Total Drama Danger Zones, and now it seems I'm working on this more. Granted, it is easier to work on this story than Danger Zones due to the shorter chapters and not having to come up with crazy challenges. And it seems that this story might be slightly more popular, considering that I have almost half as many views for this story in one month than Danger Zones has gotten in roughly 4-5 months. **

**Oh well. Anyway, here's chapter six!**

* * *

The marauders were getting restless. Vince could tell by the way they kept looking out the window of the place they were in and how they kept checking their weapons.

They must have been worried about the rest of Vince's team. Or the zombies. Or maybe they were missing more people.

Vince hoped it was the latter. He had previously counted a dozen marauders in the building or stationed outside. Already that was three times what they had. The more people that T.J. and the others took out, the better.

"Hey, pretty girl," one of the marauders said, kneeling down next to Ashley. "What's a beautiful girl like you doing way out here."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Vince warned.

"Shut it," the man said, striking Vince in the face before turning his attention back to Ashley.

"You know, pretty girl, if you let me in on where your buddies are, you and me can go off someplace." He grinned toothily.

Ashley, in response, gestured for the marauder to come closer. When he did so and leaned in for a kiss, she lashed out and bit him right on the nose.

"Ahhhhh!" the man screamed, jerking back, although this caused a large chunk of flesh to be torn off into Ashley's mouth.

"I tried to warn you," Vince muttered with a small smirk.

"You little bitch!" the man yelled, grabbing his gun and slamming the butt of it into Ashley's head. She fell without a sound.

"That's enough!" the apparent leader ordered, grabbing the bleeding man and throwing him aside.

"Did you see what that bitch did to me!" the man yelled, pointing to his bloodied nose."

"I don't care!" the leader yelled back. "You are not to touch either of them! Let the Messiah pass judgement on them, and then you can do whatever you want to them. But until then, leave them be!"

Vince crawled over to Ashley. "You okay?" he asked.

In response, she spat out the wad of flesh and blood that she had bitten off.

"We're going to get out of this, Ash," he told her. "Teej and the others are going to get us out."

She nodded, clutching the now bleeding spot on her head.

* * *

Spinelli peeked out from the corner. "Twelve of them," she said. "Four on the outside, eight on the inside."

"We can't take on twelve armed marauders by ourselves," T.J. pointed out.

"Oh, come on, T.J., we've pulled off bigger things against worst odds," Spinelli reminded him. "All we need is a plan. And no one knows plans like you."

"That was eight years ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did your planning skills go away because of the end of the world?"

"Well…"

"Oh, forget it." Spinelli stood up. "Keep them busy. I'll get into position."

She started walking off.

"Wait," T.J. said. "Try not to kill if you can."

"Sure, I'll just let them blow your head off, because they're sure as hell going to kill you if you don't kill them first." Before T.J. could respond, she was gone.

He clenched his fists, trying to come up with some way to distract the marauders.

Then, he had his answer. He wasn't thrilled with the idea, but he knew what he had to do.

* * *

"Boss," one of the marauders said, "Someone's coming."

The leader turned to face the window. Vince followed suit. To his horror, he saw T.J. approaching, his hands in the air.

"I just want to talk!" he called out.

The leader chuckled. "Bring him in."

Boris and one of the other marauders marched out and grabbed T.J., forcing him inside and down on his knees next to Vince and Ashley.

"Teej, what the hell are you doing?" Vince asked.

"Relax, Vince," T.J. said. "It's all part of the plan…I hope."

"So, you two know each other," the leader said. "Who are you, and how many more of you are there?"

"Well, T.J. Detweiler is my name," T.J. explained. "I lead a group of survivors out of Fort Tender. And there are a lot more of us than there are of you. So why don't you just let us all go, and we'll be on our way."

The leader laughed. "That won't be happening, Mr. Detweiler. The Messiah will want to talk with you."

"Uh, yeah, that won't be happening, Mr.…"

"Coldheart," the leader said, "Alistair Coldheart."

"Well, Mr. Coldheart, I'd love to see this "Messiah" of yours, but I really need to get back to my base. Now, I think we got off on the wrong foot here, but we can leave before things go bad for you."

Coldheart laughed again. "Wrong foot? Your people killed mine. There must be retribution."

"There's no use talking him down, T.J.," Vince told him. "He's crazy."

"Well, I had to try," T.J. said. "And this was a good distraction."

"Distraction?" Vince repeated. "Distraction for what?"

"Uh, Boss," a marauder spoke up. "Our men outside are gone."

"What?!" Coldheart looked up from T.J. to look out the window. T.J., Vince, and Ashley also turned.

"Get out there and find them!" Coldheart ordered Boris and another marauder.

The two headed out, drawing their weapons. But suddenly, one was yanked out of view of the window. Boris turned with a shout, but there was a gunshot and the big marauder dropped to the ground.

Coldheart growled. "Who's out there?" he asked as the remaining five marauders took positions and aimed their guns out the broken window.

There was a brief moment of silence. Then the sound of crunching footsteps was heard as someone stepped into view of the window.

Vince's eyes widened in shock. "Is that…"

"Yep," T.J. said with a smile.

"Let them all go, jerk," Spinelli ordered.

Coldheart narrowed his eyes. "The scavenger," he growled. "Oh yes, the Messiah knows you well. You've killed many of his followers."

"Oh, you mean the guys that tried to kill me, rape me, and feed me to the zombies? Yeah, I killed them. And you're next if you don't _back the hell off_."

"There's six of us and one of you," Coldheart pointed out. "And we have hostages. You'd be better off throwing down your weapons and joining them on your knees."

"Maybe," Spinelli said. "But I do have this." She held up a small remote.

"What's that?" Coldheart asked.

"The remote detonator to all the explosives I put on the outside of the building."

"Explosives!" Coldheart repeated as all the marauders took a step back in alarm.

"Yeah, explosives. I press this button, we all get blown to smithereens. And even if you do survive the blast and the building caving down, the sound will attract every zombie for miles, and you'll be eaten. So, either you let everyone go and be on your way, or I kill us all."

"You're bluffing," Coldheart challenged. "You wouldn't want to kill yourself and your friends just to get rid of us."

"Try me," Spinelli challenged.

Coldheart frowned, weighing the odds. Finally, he nodded at his crew, and they all lowered their weapons.

"Fine," he said. "The Messiah is expecting us anyway. Move out!"

The marauders all began to file out past Spinelli. As they left, she jumped through the broken window and walked up to T.J.

"For a distraction, that was pretty stupid," she told him. "But it worked."

T.J. was about to respond when he saw the marauders turn around and aim their weapons into the building.

"Get down!" he yelled, tackling Spinelli as the marauders began to fire into the building. Bullets pinged all around them as T.J. shielding her and Vince and Ashley rolled for cover.

"Get off me!" Spinelli yelled, crawling out from under T.J. and grabbing a fallen pistol.

"Vince, catch!" she yelled, tossing the pistol over to where Vince and Ashley were. Vince caught it and began to return fire, taking out one of the marauders.

"Kill them! Kill them all!" Coldheart yelled. As they focused fire on Vince, Spinelli drew her knives and threw them. One hit an enemy right in the chest, while the other skimmed Coldheart's arm.

The moment she had thrown the knives, Spinelli grabbed her rifle off her back and started shooting effortlessly, with bullets pinging all around her. Another two marauders went down.

"Fall back!" Coldheart yelled. As they turned to run, Spinelli kept shooting, taking down the other two, leaving Coldheart the only survivor as he ran off, around the corner, and out of sight.

"Yeah, that's right! Run away!" Spinelli yelled after him.

T.J., Vince, and Ashley all stood up. T.J. spied the remote detonator and reached to pick it up.

"Leave it," Spinelli told him. "That's just a garage door opener."

"So, you _were_ bluffing."

"I learned from the best."

Vince slowly approached her. "Is it…really you, Spinelli?"

"No, it's Miss Finster. Of course it's me!"

"But…I thought—"

"Quiet!" she suddenly ordered, holding a fist in the air.

In the distance, the group could hear the low moans and growls of something coming towards them.

"Zombies," Spinelli said. "A lot of them. And they're coming this way."

* * *

**Oh no! The zombies are coming for them! How will they escape? Will they escape? You'll have to come back when I post the next chapter to find out. **

**Be sure to leave a review so you can tell me how I'm doing. Don't forget to smack that follow button, and until next time, this is Guest 1138, reminding you to always go for the head. Ciao!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note:**

**Hey y'all!**

**First off, I want to apologize for the long wait for this update. My summer job keeps me pretty busy, and I only have a limited amount of time off. Fortunately, I will be done with this job by next Friday, so I should be back to my regularly scheduled random updates starting then. The main reason that I am getting this chapter up rather than my other fanfictions is that this is to celebrate the recent release of the first trailer for Zombieland 2, the franchise being one of my inspirations for writing this story. **

**Secondly...okay, I guess there's no secondly this time. **

**Anyway, time to answer some reviews!**

**HoneyBee007: Thanks! It really means a lot to me when people love reading my crazy ideas! **

**Anywho, let's get back to the carnage!**

* * *

"Start barricading the doors and windows," Spinelli ordered. "Anything and everything you can get, shove it against the entrances."

"Are you crazy, Spinelli?" Vince asked. "We need to run and get the hell out of here."

"Oh, jeez, why didn't I think of that?" Spinelli asked sarcastically before punching him in the arm. "Those brain eaters are going to be all over us in seconds. If we try to run, we're going to get swarmed and killed."

"Running's always worked in the past. It'll work again."

Spinelli got right in Vince's face, which was awkward considering how much shorter she was. "Look Vince, I've been out on my own for eight years. I've seen people torn apart when they try to run. This aint some game, this is survival! Now help me barricade these windows, or we're all dead meat!"

"We might-"

"What? Still have time to escape? Wake up! The zombies are coming, and the only thing that we can do is barricade ourselves and pray that they run past us."

"And if they don't?"

"Then make sure your weapons are ready," Spinelli told him. "Unless you want to become the latest item on the menu."

Vince turned to T.J. "Are you going to back me on this, Teej?"

"Do what she says," T.J. replied, grabbing a large table and starting to drag it towards the window.

Vince shared a look with Ashley. Then the two also began helping moving things in the store with them.

After a few minutes, Spinelli held up her hand. "Get to cover," she ordered. "They're coming."

And T.J. knew she was right, for he could hear them coming: a stampeding horde of zombies coming from...everywhere.

Spinelli grabbed T.J. by the arm and pulled him into the corner, while Vince and Ashley took cover behind the counter. Moments later, the zombies appeared.

Like Spinelli had guessed, they were coming from every possible way they could: down roads, from roofs, through buildings. Spinelli had been right: if they had tried to run, they would've been run down and torn to shreds in moments.

The horde was running past the building. Clearly, they had heard the sounds of the gunfight with Coldheart and his gang, but didn't see the four of them in hiding.

Once the horde had passed, Spinelli grabbed T.J.'s arm and pulled him up. "Move," she ordered. "Quickly, before more show up."

"Hold on," Vince started to argue. Then Spinelli grabbed his head and pinned him to the wall. Ashley raised her sword, but she pulled out a pistol and aimed it right at her face.

"Do you want to get out of this town alive?" Spinelli asked softly.

"Spinelli," T.J. started to say, but Spinelli ignored him. "You haven't changed a bit, Vince," she continued. "Always thinking you're the best at everything. But this is no game. This is the end of the damn world. And if you want everyone here to get out of this town alive, you will do exactly what I say when I say it. Do I make myself clear?"

Vince slowly nodded.

"Good." Spinelli released him. "Now get your ass moving."

As she started to leave, Vince and T.J. exchanged a look. "Are you sure Spinelli's still...you know, Spinelli?" Vince asked.

T.J. shrugged. "It's Spinelli. What would you expect from someone like her being on her own for eight years?"

* * *

Spinelli led the way through the streets, moving both quickly and quietly. T.J. was amazed at how natural she seemed.

He himself brought up the rear, making sure zombies or marauders didn't ambush them from behind. The former, he knew, could show up at any time, and Coldheart could have more men lurking anywhere.

Vince and Ashley guarded the middle. T.J. knew that his old friend didn't like that someone else was taking the lead out in the field. But he would have to learn to deal with it. After all, Spinelli did know more about the area and its dangers than they did. Plus, T.J. was still in charge of things overall.

Their plan was to find the truck, meet up with Francis and the Diggers, and then get back to Fort Tender.

T.J. was excited to get back home. Especially now that Spinelli was back with them.

_I can't wait to tell Mikey about Spinelli,_ he thought, _And Gretchen. And Gus. And—_

A loud clatter startled T.J. Whipping around, he saw a trash can right next to him had been knocked to the ground.

"Quiet!" Spinelli hissed at him. "Before-"

A zombie lunged from the shadows, screeching. Vince instantly brought it down with a shot from his rifle.

"God dammit!" Spinelli yelled. "You're going to lure them right to us!"

And indeed, T.J. could already hear the sounds of zombies nearby responding to the sudden burst of noise.

They were coming in for the kill.

"_Now _can we run?" Vince asked.

"Now we can run," Spinelli confirmed, already beginning to sprint.

"Move!" T.J. ordered, picking up the pace to keep up with the others.

As he ran, he spotted something out of the corner of his eye: on the rooftops was someone wearing a dark cloak. In an instant, though, the cloaked figure was gone.

T.J. forced himself not to think about whoever it was he had just seen and focus on escaping. Already zombies were starting to come from all sides, screeching and moaning, moving in fast for the kill.

Spinelli, Vince, and T.J. all opened fire on the zombies as best they could. If they got too close, Ashley was there to decapitate them.

"Keep going!" Spinelli yelled, shooting another zombie in the head.

Eventually, though, as they approached the school, Spinelli skidded to a stop. T.J. stopped next to her as he saw what she had seen: a massive horde of zombies rushing at them.

"Oh, hell," Vince said.

"Fire everything you got!" Spinelli ordered, not that she needed to say that, considering it was obvious.

"No way we stop all of them!" T.J. yelled.

"Not with conventional weapons," Spinelli agreed, pulling out a small dark object.

"Wait," Vince interrupted. "Is that a-"

Spinelli tossed the grenade into the midst of the horde, blowing dozens of the zombies to pieces.

"Where the hell did she get a grenade?" Vince yelled.

"How should I know?" T.J. yelled back.

Despite Spinelli's grenade, the horde kept coming, their numbers barely weakened by the explosion.

"This is not going to end well!" T.J. remarked as he shot at a zombie close range.

"Aw jeez, I never could've figured that out on my own," Spinelli shot back, the sarcasm obvious in her tone. .

There was a loud roar, and the truck suddenly appeared off a side street, slamming into a mass of zombies, with Francis at the wheel and the Diggers both in the back seat.

"Come on! Let's go! Let's go!" Francis yelled, firing his uzi at the horde.

"Everybody in!" T.J. yelled as they rushed for their vehicle. They all jumped onto the back, slicing and shooting zombies at every turn.

"Go!" T.J. roared, kicking a zombie that had managed to grab onto the back of the truck.

Francis floored the engine, and the truck's tires squealed. A bump on the road nearly threw Spinelli off the back, but T.J. managed to snag her hand and pull her back on.

There was a long silence as they drove away from their old town once more. Away from the roars and the moans of the undead.

"Is that supposed to be Spinelli?" Digger Sam asked.

* * *

**And so our heroes make their grand escape. Not exactly a climatic escape, to be honest, but it looked cool when I imagined it in my head. **

**Remember that cloaked figure that T.J. briefly saw. That person will play a key role in upcoming chapters. **

**The terrifying, heartbreaking story of Spinelli's survival will be explained within the next few chapters. In theory. **

**Anywho, that's about all from me. Don't forget to leave a review and hit that follow button so you can stay updated when I post new chapters. Until next time, this is Guest 1138, reminding you to never play outside during a hurricane. Ciao!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note:**

**Hello, hello, hello! I'm back from my summer job officially and back to my regularly scheduled sporadic updates to my different fanfiction stories! So here's the next chapter to Recess: The Apocalypse!**

**Real quick response to a review:**

**Guest 5050-6969: I'm glad you love this story so much! I do intend to have "T.J./Spinelli fluff," to quote from your review. It'll be something that builds up more and more as we move on with this story. **

**As a side note, if any of you readers out there are interested in making some fan art in regards to this story, feel free to go ahead and do so! If you post it anywhere online, all I ask is that you let me know so I can take a look at it AND you give credit to this story as the inspiration. You can use the descriptions of the characters I have provided on my profile as a starting point and add your own personal touch to it. **

**And as always, I do not own Recess. Those rights are owned by Paul and Joe. And maybe Disney. **

**But anywho, on to the story!**

* * *

Once again, the ride back to Fort Tender was quiet. But this time, it wasn't because of the looming dread of a potential suicidal mission. This time, it was because of the fact that they were bringing a ghost back with them.

Vince was busy trying to explain to Theresa about this at that moment.

"Yes, I said Spinelli," he said into his radio, exasperated. "No, not a zombie or a skeleton. The actual, real life, still living Spinelli."

"Give me that," Spinelli ordered, wrenching the radio away from Vince. "It's really me, Cornchip. Do I have to introduce you to Madame Fist for me to prove it?"

She listened to Theresa's response. Then she tossed it back to Vince.

"She says hello," she told him, before she turned around once again to look behind them, making sure that there weren't any zombies chasing them.

Meanwhile, T.J. was using this time to wrap his head around what had happened during the past few hours.

They had found Spinelli. A Spinelli that was willing to shoot and kill her way through anything that got in her way, but Spinelli nonetheless. Although, when T.J. thought about it for a minute, he realized that nothing really had changed about her.

But he still had many questions for her, the chief being how she was still alive. Sure, she was tough, and the best fighter in the school, but punching and kicking wasn't going to save anyone from zombies. He understood why she was still alive at this age, but to survive in a zombie infested city for eight years…even Spinelli would've had a tough if not impossible time to survive.

Another big question was where she had gotten all her guns. Last time T.J. had checked, their town didn't have a gun store. So where had she gotten all her weapons, let alone the grenades she apparently had.

"Spinelli—"

"Quiet, Teej," she snapped. "I'm not exactly happy with you right now."

"Why? I saved your life back there!"

"After you ruined our escape by drawing the zombies right too us!"

"What? You mean that trash can back there?" T.J. asked. "I didn't even touch it!"

"Then who did?"

"I—I don't know for certain," he admitted. "But I think I saw someone on the roofs. A cloaked figure."

"A cloaked figure," Spinelli repeated. "Now you're just making things up for your mistakes."

"It's the truth, Spinelli!"

"Whatever. Next time be more careful." Spinelli turned back to look behind them once more.

T.J. gritted his teeth in annoyance. Apparently, eight years on her own hadn't done much to Spinelli's personality.

"We're getting close to Fort Tender," Francis reported. "The guards know we have one extra coming in, so they won't shoot us off the road."

"Did you let the others know that it's Spinelli we saved?" T.J. asked.

"Excuse me?" Spinelli interrupted. "I believe I was the one that saved all of you."

"I sort of hinted that it was her," Francis replied with a smirk. "There may or may not be a few people waiting to greet her when we get back."

T.J. smiled at that. He knew of exactly three people in particular that would be the most excited seeing Spinelli alive.

He only hoped that those three would actually be there to see her.

* * *

"Pass me sample 238." Gretchen Grundler held a hand out, not even looking at the lab assistant next to her.

"Coming right up, Doc," the lab assistant, a young man by the name of Reeves, told her, handing her a small vial with a green liquid in it.

Barely acknowledging his presence, Gretchen grabbed the vial and added it to the beaker of purple liquid she had already prepared.

"Is this going to be the day, Doctor Grundler?" Reeves asked.

"Quite possibly," Gretchen replied. "Though I wouldn't get your hopes up yet. After all, eight years of attempts have all ended in failure."

Reeves shut up then and backed away as Gretchen shook the beaker, mixing the two liquids together. She then grabbed a syringe and filled it with the liquid.

"Attempt number 4,835," Gretchen noted, motioning for Reeves to mark it done in the log. She then walked through the lab to the back, where, strapped to beds in a large cell and guarded by four large men, were six zombies, all writhing and struggling to get free.

"Open it up," she ordered, and one of the soldiers opened the cage door. She walked over to one of the struggling zombies and injected it with the serum.

The zombie's struggles got stronger and its howls got louder. Then, without warning, it stopped moving and slumped. Dead.

Gretchen sighed. "Attempt number 4,835…failure." She nodded to the soldier, who took out his pistol and shot the zombie she had just experimented on in the head.

To Reeves, she said, "Prep the samples for attempt 4,836."

That's when the door burst open and Randall burst in.

"Gretchen! Gretchen!" he cried.

Gretchen sighed. "Yes, what is it, Randall?"

"Did you hear the news? Spinelli's alive! T.J.'s bringing her back here right now!"

"Yes, yes, I got the call already."

"Well, aren't you going upstairs to greet her?"

Gretchen shook her head. "No. My work takes priority. If we do not find a cure to this epidemic, we will all be dead before long."

"But Spinelli—"

"—Is an old friend," Gretchen interrupted. "But her current status will not help her should she be bitten by a zombie. So, send her my regards, but I will not be joining them upstairs."

Randall frowned, but decided not to press the issue. He took his leave then, probably hurrying away to tell the next former Third Street student about Spinelli's triumphant return.

"You're not going to even take a few minutes off to see your friend?" Reeves asked.

"Wasting time with such things would be highly illogical, as I am needed to create the serum that will save all of humanity from extinction," Gretchen told her assistant. "Now prep the samples for test 4,836."

Enough time had been wasted talking with Randall. There was work to be done. She had to come up with a cure, and soon.

The fate of the human race depended on it.

* * *

**Welcome to the bloodbath, Gretchen! Hope you survive the experience!**

**I will say, however, that she may or may not appear all that much in this story. After all, as evidenced in this chapter, she is working tirelessly on the cure to the zombie situation. Will she find a cure? Honestly...I have no idea. I haven't thought _that_ far ahead yet. Aside from the epic battles and zombie carnage and whatnot. **

**And...yep, her character description has been added to my profile. **

**Don't expect that much action for the next few chapters as Spinelli settles into life at Fort Tender. But don't worry! The zombies will come back soon! **

**Expect the flashback chapter to come within the next 2-4 chapters as well. Then we'll know what happened the day of the outbreak. And then learn what Spinelli's been up to for the past eight years. **

**I'll update when I can. I know some of you want me to update quicker, but these things take time, especially since I'm involved in about a dozen or so other writing projects, including novels I intend to publish one day. That's why I always say to never expect regular updates, as I have many different things to do. **

**I think that's about it. Don't forget to leave a review and follow this story to get notified on future updates. Until next time, this is Guest 1138 reminding you to watch your step in a minefield. Ciao!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note:**

**Here's the next chapter for y'all. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Fort Tender soon rose over the horizon. Even from this distance, T.J. could see the guard towers, fully manned with two guards and a gun mount each.

"Wait till you see how much we've accomplished in eight years," he told Spinelli. "I think you'll be impressed."

Spinelli remained expressionless.

Francis pulled up to the gate as a burly looking guard poked his head out of the guardhouse. "Afternoon, Francis," he said.

"Burns," Francis replied.

Burns motioned to Spinelli. "Picked up another survivor?"

"Obviously," Francis said. "Let us through."

"Sorry. Gotta screen the newcomer first," Burns told them. "Base policy."

"Let us through, Burns," T.J. ordered. "She's good."

Burns looked over at T.J. "Sir? What about—"

Spinelli pulled out her pistol. "Do you really think I'd want to kill you, creep? Now let us through before I send you to the infirmary."

"Spinelli, that's unnecessary," Vince told her, gently lowering her arm.

Burns relented. "Fine. Come on in." He pulled a lever and the gate opened with a grinding of gears, allowing Francis to bring the truck through.

"Asshole," T.J. heard Spinelli mutter under her breath.

Francis pulled the truck into the garage, pulling it to a stop next to other trucks and vehicles.

"Team, hit the showers," Vince ordered, getting out of the truck. "You've earned it."

As Vince's team all headed off to the barracks, Vince turned to T.J. and Spinelli. "You two have fun."

"You're not staying?" T.J. asked.

"Nah man, I'm due for some R&R. You go show Spinelli around the base." With that, he followed his team out of the garage.

"Looks like they all take your leadership seriously," Spinelli noted sarcastically.

"No, they actually do," T.J. insisted. "Vince is just having a bad day. Usually his missions go a lot better."

"If all his plans are like what he used on this "mission," then I have no idea how he's still alive."

"Commander!" Randall cried, bursting in. "You're back! And…" he trailed off, looking at Spinelli.

If Spinelli was surprised, she didn't show it on her face. "So, the world goes to hell, billions get turned into zombies, and one of the few survivors left is _Randall_?"

"Hey, I had as good of a chance as anyone else," Randall argued.

Spinelli snorted. "Right. Sure."

"Randall, where's everyone else?" T.J. asked. "I was expecting a bit more fanfare at seeing Spinelli alive…and a few apologies for saying I was wrong about her."

"Sorry T.J., but they're all busy," Randall told him. "Gretchen specifically said that she wouldn't be coming up, Mikey's doing a sermon with Pastor Prickly, and I couldn't even find Gus."

Spinelli snorted again. "Seriously? Prickly's alive _and_ he's a _pastor?_"

"Yeah," T.J. replied, wincing. "It's probably best not to get into that."

"Well, anyway, Theresa also wanted me to give you these intelligence reports," Randall added, giving T.J. a folder filled with papers.

"Thanks, Randall."

Randall then left, shooting only a single glance back at T.J. and Spinelli.

"Come on," T.J. said to her, taking her hand. "Let me show you around."

Spinelli pulled free. "Just take me somewhere where I can sleep. It's been a long day."

"But what about seeing the base."

"I'll find my own way around eventually."

"But Spinelli—"

"I know you think that you need to look after me, but you don't. And besides, it's just a military base. I can navigate it pretty easily. Just take me to a place where I can crash for a bit."

T.J. relented. "Okay. Whatever you say, Spinelli."

He led Spinelli out of the garage and through the base. As they walked, several people that were walking nearby stopped to stare at them, pointing and whispering at Spinelli.

Word had apparently spread that someone long thought of as dead—someone close to the base commander, no less—was still alive and walking through the base.

"How many people are on the base?" Spinelli asked.

"A few thousand at least," T.J. told her. "I don't know the number off the top of my head. A lot of people here are families that had nowhere else to go. We also have squads going out daily to scavenge for food and supplies." Then he had a thought. "Wait, where did you get food all this time?"

"Scavenged it, same as you," she replied.

T.J. decided not to press the issue as they arrived in a section of the base that had been set aside for families and other civilians.

"This room should be open," he said, opening one of the unoccupied rooms. Inside was a small bed, which appeared rickety, and a dresser that had a desk lamp on it. A closet was placed in the corner as well.

"I know it's not much," T.J. told her. "But we're doing what we can with the limited resources that we have."

"It's fine," Spinelli told him. "First time in years that I'll sleep in an actual bed."

T.J. nodded. "So…see you at dinner, then?"

"Sure. Whatever." Spinelli walked into the room and closed the door in T.J.'s face.

T.J. sighed.

* * *

When Coldheart arrived back at camp, he was met by two robed figures.

He wasn't surprised. The Messiah had probably already heard of what happened in the town. He probably wasn't pleased.

The two robed figures led Coldheart to the church, where a large throne had been placed at the altar. Sitting in that chair was a hooded figure wearing a white cloak and robe.

Coldheart dropped to one knee. "Messiah, I—"

"Silence," the Messiah ordered.

Coldheart swallowed.

"You go into the city with several of our brothers, and all of them perish at the hands of _children_," the Messiah continued. "You alone were the sole survivor."

"Messiah," Coldheart protested, "We were outsmarted. The Scavenger was there too."

"I know," the Messiah said. "I had a friend track them out of the city."

"Are we going to take our revenge then?" Coldheart asked. "After what they did to us—"

"Don't worry about T.J. Detweiler or his little crew," the Messiah told him. "In time, we will encounter them again. And once they see me, they'll know that I, the one true Messiah, will lead them all from the darkness of this apocalypse."

"And if he doesn't follow you?" Coldheart questioned.

The Messiah smiled under his hood.

"Then they will share the fate of those that follow the wrong path."

* * *

**Uh oh, that doesn't sound good! How will things go when this group of clearly crazy survivors meets up with T.J.'s group? Probably not well. It is the apocalypse, after all, and since when do things ever go well in the apocalypse?**

**To all you Mikey and Gus fans out there that are wondering when they're going to show up, never fear! If all goes well, we'll get to see them in the next chapter! And we are also getting ever so closer to that mysterious flashback chapter where we see how T.J. and company actually survived the day the world ended. **

**That's all from me. Don't forget to drop a review (seriously, they are very much appreciated) and follow the story so you get notified on future updates. Until next time, this is Guest 1138, reminding you that things never go to plan, especially in every single TV show and Movie in existence. Ciao!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note:**

**Hey all! **

**First, I want to apologize. My original plan was to get this chapter up and ready last Friday to coincide with the release of Zombieland: Double Tap, since Zombieland was one of the inspirations for this story. But sadly, life had other plans and I had stuff to do. Plus this chapter was a bit challenging to work on considering there is not a whole lot of conflict to deal with. **

**But yeah, I finally got this chapter finished. Enjoy!**

* * *

Dinner was served in the mess hall at the usual time. T.J. sat at his usual six-person table, just like he had been for years.

Until today, there was no chance that all six seats would have been filled. Not with Spinelli gone.

Even without Spinelli, it would usually be just T.J. and maybe one or two others. They all usually had different times they preferred to eat. Plus, Vince preferred to eat with his team rather than his old friends.

T.J. took a bite of his sandwich, keeping an eye on the door to the mess hall. He was hoping that Spinelli would actually show up. After eight years without her, he wanted to have a long talk with her without the threat of zombies or marauders attacking. Inside the walls of Fort Tender, they were safe.

But as the minutes ticked by, there was still no sign of her. T.J. sighed. He should've expected this would happen, especially after seeing how she was after all this time.

That's when he realized she was sitting right next to him.

He nearly jumped in surprise. "How did you get here?" he asked her. "I've been watching the door this entire time."

"You're telling me that you never noticed the other door back there?" Spinelli asked, jerking her thumb behind T.J. He swung around and saw that there was indeed another door.

"Apparently, yes, I am telling you that," he said after a moment of silence.

Spinelli shook her head sadly. "Jeez, T.J., how the hell have you lasted this long without dying?"

"I could ask the same thing to you," T.J. replied.

Spinelli flinched. "I'm not ready to talk about that. Not yet, anyway."

T.J. was about to answer when a voice called through the chatter of the mess hall, "Where is she? Where is she?"

A large boy wearing white robes burst through the crowd, charging at Spinelli.

"Spinelli!" Mikey cried, grabbing her into a bear hug embrace. "Thank the Lord you're alive."

"Ugh, Mikey," Spinelli mumbled, her voice muffled by being stuffed against Mikey's large body. "You can let go now, you big lummox."

Mikey released her. "It's so good to see you alive, Spinelli," he said. "I prayed for you every night."

"So, what do you want, a medal?" Spinelli snarked.

"Easy, Spinelli," T.J. told her, "He was just trying to be nice."

"Does it look like I care?" Spinelli scoffed.

"It's okay, T.J.," Mikey told him. "I don't mind. Spinelli's soul just hasn't been quite clean as of late."

"My soul is _what now_?" Spinelli growled.

"Your soul. I can see that it has suffered multiple sins in the past few years—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Spinelli interrupted.

"But it's easy to ask for forgiveness," Mikey went on. "All you have to do is pray to the Lord and—"

"Prayer?" Spinelli scoffed. "Prayer didn't keep me alive out there. God didn't lift one finger to help. I survive all thanks to one person: me."

A crowd was beginning to form around them, muttering amongst themselves.

"Uh, Spinelli," T.J. told her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe it would be best if you didn't criticize one of the leading religious figures on the base while around people that like to listen to his sermons."

Spinelli shook his hand off. "I don't give a damn," she spat.

"You really should, Spinelli," a new voice broke in. "After all, if you're going to stay here, you'll have to remember what it's like to get along with others."

Everyone turned to the newcomer, who was sitting at the table right behind T.J.'s. He was large, almost as large as Mikey even. His blonde hair was still in a crew cut, and he wore an army uniform. On his belt was a large black mace stained with blood.

T.J.'s saw Spinelli's face flicker with shock for a moment. Then she said, "Gus?"

"Yeah, it's me," Gus said, standing up. "What? You expected the same little kid you could push around all those years ago?"

"Cool it, Gus," T.J. ordered, but he was ignored as Gus stalked up to Spinelli, leaning down into her face.

"Well, think again," Gus snapped. "And I'm here to tell you to behave yourself, or there will be consequences."

Spinelli didn't back down. "Is that supposed to scare me?"

"Maybe," Gus shot back. "But then again, you were always too stupid to listen to reason. Always looking to solve everything with your fists."

"That seems to be the only way to solve things in the apocalypse," Spinelli pointed out.

"That may be true, but there are other ways to survive out there," Gus said with a small smirk. "As you no doubt discovered on your own. Tell me, how many times did you do it to save your skin? Or get a little bit of food."

T.J. got Gus's meaning instantly. "Okay, that's enough," he said. "All that matters is that she's alive and well."

Spinelli clenched her fists as she realized Gus's meaning as well. "Why I oughta—" she growled raising her fists.

"Go ahead," Gus said. "Prove that you're the same temperamental girl we all knew."

"Gladly," Spinelli proclaimed, punching Gus in the face. He staggered back, holding his nose, but Spinelli wasn't giving him time to recover.

With a growl, she leaped onto Gus, bringing him crashing to the ground.

"You don't know a damn thing of what I've been through, Griswold," she snarled. "While you were living safe inside the walls of this base, I've been fighting for my life every single day for the past eight years. Always remember that."

Gus pushed Spinelli off of him and jumped to his feet, his face a mask of rage. He reached for his mace.

"Enough!" T.J. yelled. "Save the fighting for the zombies and the marauders!"

Spinelli and Gus stared daggers at each other. Then Spinelli turned and pushed her way through the crowd. "Out of my way, morons," she snapped.

"Spinelli!" T.J. called after her as she left. He glared at Gus. "Why'd you have to be such a jerk like that?" he asked him.

Gus only stared at him. Then he turned and marched away.

"He's changed a lot since this started," Mikey reminded T.J. "His soul could probably use more cleansing than Spinelli's."

"Not the time, Mikey," T.J. told him.

* * *

After a quick search of the base, T.J. eventually found Spinelli in the Memorial Garden, standing in front of her grave.

"You okay?" T.J. asked her.

"Do I look okay, Teej?"

"Sorry about Gus," T.J. told her. "He's…changed a lot since it all happened. This whole thing hit him hard."

"Yeah, no kidding," Spinelli grumbled. "The nerve of that guy, trying to guess wrongly about how I survived out there."

"Well," T.J. said slowly. "The easiest way to put a stop to these rumors is to tell everyone what really happened."

"I already told you, I'm not ready for that yet," Spinelli told him.

"Spinelli…" T.J. said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Whatever happened to you out there, whatever you went through…just know that I'm here to support you."

"I know you are," Spinelli said after a moment of hesitation. Then she asked him, "So, how'd you do it?"

"Excuse me?"

"How'd you get out of Third Street alive that day?"

"It's a long story," T.J. warned.

"Assuming that zombies can't breach the fort, we've got nothing but time," Spinelli told him.

T.J. sighed. "Okay. As you know, it all started eight years ago…"

* * *

**Oof. Gus is being brutal!**

**This chapter finally gave me a chance to introduce Mikey and Gus. I do have to say that based on Mikey's more eloquent way of speaking (as I have witnessed in the series), he may not show up in the story all that much due to my inexperience at writing for a character like his. Don't worry though, he'll still show up, especially in scenes involving sermons he leads. And Gus will show up more. I have plans for his character, including on how he became a large, hardened jerklike figure. **

**And yep, Mikey and Gus's character descriptions are up on my profile. **

**The next chapter is the long awaited flashback chapter! At long last, we will see just how T.J. and the gang escaped the horde of zombies on the day the apocalypse began. I warn you though, that there will be blood, and several side characters that have been confirmed as dead already will die. You have been warned. **

**That's about it. Make sure to drop a review with your thoughts, and hit the favorite and follow buttons to stay informed on updates. Until next time, this is Guest 1138, reminding you to enjoy the little things in life. Ciao!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note: **

**Happy Halloween guys! To celebrate, here's the next chapter of the story. And more than that, it's the moment you've all been waiting for: the flashback chapter revealing how T.J. and company survived the initial outbreak! Enjoy as I kill off virtually every side character in the show!**

* * *

_EIGHT YEARS AGO_

"Come on, guys!" T.J. yelled, leading the gang into the crowd of stampeding students as they ran away from what had once been Ashely Q. The now undead girl was busy feasting on Ashely A's body.

_Zombies_. The name Butch had used to describe what was happening rang in T.J.'s ears. As much as he hated to admit it, that was the only way to describe them.

Zombies.

The crowd of screaming students ran for the school, which the steps were being blocked by Miss Finster.

"What's going on out here?" she demanded to know. No one paid her any mind as they began pushing past her into the school.

"The Kindergarteners' pen!" Gus cried, pointing at the large wooden door that kept the savages in. It was currently shaking furiously, as if many tiny fists were banging on it repeatedly.

And then the door came crashing down, allowing dozens of savagely dressed kindergarteners to burst free, snarling furiously. Even from this distance, T.J. could see the blood in their mouths and the blankness in their eyes.

"They're all zombies!" Vince yelled.

"Just keep running guys!" T.J. ordered.

Out of the corner of his eye, T.J. saw one kindergartener zombie leap onto an unlucky 6th grader, sinking its teeth into the unfortunate kid's arm.

"Oh god, no!" the kid cried, falling to the ground, which only invited more zombies to swarm him.

Upside Down Girl didn't fare much better. Two zombies had tackled her and were biting her without mercy. Her screams echoed louder above the other screams of terror.

Finally, the gang managed to reach the doors, rushing in at the back of the group. Two 6th graders slammed the doors behind them, sealing them tight.

Instantly there was banging on the door. "Let me in, let me!" a boy's voice cried. His pleads were changed to screams and slams as he was presumably attacked by the zombies.

"Wh-what's going on?!" Gus stammered.

"Evidently, Gus, we are in the middle of an apocalypse of zombies," Gretchen told him.

"We're doomed!" Mikey cried.

"Calm down, guys," T.J. said. "We just need to figure out what's going on."

"But how do we do that, Teej?" Vince asked.

"Maybe Principal Prickly knows what's going on," Gus suggested.

There was a crackle of a megaphone. "Listen up, you hooligans!" Miss Finster blared. "We're going to get out of this. The School District is sending in the busses to take us to an evacuation site, where we will be then moved to safer locations."

"What's going on, Miss Finster?" T.J. asked.

"Look around, Detweiler!" Miss Finster snapped. "It's the end of world out there!"

"Did everyone out there just…die?" Ashley B asked, trembling. "Ashley A and Ashley Q? All of them?"

"Suck it up," Miss Finster told her. "Now listen up and listen well. When the busses get here, we're going to have to run out in enemy territory. Some of you will not make it. I won't like about that. If you stop for any reason out there, you will die. As soon as the busses are filled, they will each take a different route to the evacuation site. So, everyone gather at the front doors, because we won't have much time to get out of here."

No one hesitated. Everyone immediately started running for the other side of the school so they could get out of there.

"Come on, guys," T.J. told his friends. "Let's get going."

"What about the doors?" Vince asked. "I mean, they're probably not going to hold long." As if to make his point, the zombies outside on the playground began banging on the doors, making them shake and crack.

"They'll have to hold long enough," T.J. assured him. "Now let's go."

* * *

It seemed like the entire school was at the front doors, frantically talking to each other, waiting for the busses to arrive and get them to safety.

"This is crazy," Vince said. "An actual zombie apocalypse."

"You'd think that this is the thing that would happen to your kids, but would never happen to you," Gretchen added.

"What's the matter, LaStupid?" Lawson mocked. "You scared of a few undead kindergarteners?"

"Lawson, this really isn't the time for this," T.J. told him.

"Shut up, Dipweiller," Lawson shot back. "You all might be afraid of going out there and facing those freaks, but I'm not. In fact, I'm thinking this might be another one of your dopey pranks."

"You really think that this is a prank?" T.J. asked in shock. "People are dying out there, Lawson. This isn't a prank, it's real."

"Ha! We'll see about that," Lawson said, pushing past them and heading for the doors.

"Lawson, don't!" T.J. called. But he was already opening the doors and walking outside.

T.J. and the others all looked at each other before running the doors. Vince held them open slightly as T.J. peaked through.

Lawson was standing out in the middle of the sidewalk. "Ha! See?!" he laughed. "You losers are being scared for nothing—"

The zombie hit in from the side. Lawson never had a chance. He screamed in terror and pain as the zombie sank its teeth into his shoulder.

T.J. winced, silently closing the door.

The screeching of tires announced the arrival of the busses. Miss Finster pushed past the crowd and stood at the front of the students.

"This is it, boys and girls," she said. "Remember, don't stop for any reason, and there's a good chance you'll get through this."

"But how do we get through the zombies?" Gus asked.

"You pray," Finster told him coldly. Then she threw open the doors. "Go! Go! Go!"

The students surged, running for their lives onto the front lawn of the school. There were now more zombies around, including a zombie Lawson, and they all turned their heads towards the running students.

Instant pandemonium. Zombies leaped onto fleeing students, infecting them instantly. Kids all around T.J. were tripping and falling or getting mauled by the slowly rising horde.

Suddenly, a zombie hand grabbed T.J. by the head and yanked him back. Crying out in terror, he yanked himself free, but lost his hat in the process.

He started to go back for it, but Vince seized him by the arm. "Come on, Teej, we got to go!" he yelled.

"But my cap!"

"Forget it! Just run!" Vince pulled him onto the bus, with Miss Finster hot on his heels. "Get us out of here!" she ordered the bus driver.

"You don't have to tell me twice!" the bus driver replied, closing the door and flooring the engine. The bus screeched off down the road, running over a zombie in the process.

"What about everyone else?" T.J. asked. "There were still a bunch of kids back there."

"They'll make it on one of the other busses," Miss Finster grunted. "Ours was full, so we had no reason to stay in danger."

T.J. panted. "Well, that was a close one, right Spinelli?" When no answer came, he frowned.

"Spinelli?" he asked, quickly looking around the bus. He saw the rest of his friends. Both remaining Ashleys. Butch. Hustler Kid. Cornchip Girl. The Diggers, who had apparently lost their shovels during the escape. Swinger Girl. And somehow Randall. But no Spinelli.

"Did anyone see Spinelli?" T.J. asked worryingly.

"Haven't seen her since recess," Digger Sam mentioned.

"We have to go back," T.J. said. "We have to go get her."

"Calm down, Teej," Vince told him. "I'm sure she's fine. She probably just got on another bus or something. We'll see her once we get to this extraction point."

T.J. didn't look reassured.

"It's Spinelli, man," Vince reminded him. "If the zombies had any brains left, they'd be running from _her_."

T.J. managed a weak smile at that. "You're right, Vince," he said. "She'll make it." Then, in a lower voice, he said to himself, "She has to."

* * *

No one spoke as the bus drove on out of the city and onto a desolate road. The reality of the situation that they were in had finally hit them.

It was the end of the world. That much was clear. And they had watched several of their classmates and friends get killed. Actually killed.

There was a rumor getting whispered around (possibly started by Randall) that the extraction site was going to be some random field in the middle of nowhere. But nothing was for certain. Miss Finster was being quiet on the matter as well.

T.J. himself was clearly distracted by worrying about Spinelli. He kept staring out the window or twiddling his thumbs.

"Teej, you got to calm down," Vince told him. "Spinelli's going to be fine."

"Actually, I've been calculating, and the odds are not good," Gretchen piped up.

"Not helping, Gretchen," Vince said to her.

"I'm fine, guys," T.J. told them. "And I'm sure that Spinelli is fine too. It just whomps that we left her behind like that."

Suddenly, there was a loud _BANG _and the bus lurched.

"We've blown a tire!" the driver called, gripping the wheel tightly. "Hold on, everyone!"

That's when T.J. realized that they were about to drive off a bridge.

"Uh oh," he said.

And then the bus hit the side of the bridge, flying off it and plunging down.

* * *

T.J. opened his eyes to see wreckage all around him. He groaned, struggling to his feet, feeling a trickle of blood run down his head.

Vince pulled him out of what was once the seat he had been sitting in. "You okay, man?" he asked.

"I'll live," T.J. replied.

"Come on, let's get out of here." Vince and T.J. walked down the dented aisle, past several more dead bodies, and out the door, where the remaining survivors were slowly gathering.

"Everyone that's still alive is out here, Miss Finster," Vince told her.

"Excellent," Miss Finster said. "Prepare to move out, everyone. That extraction point is a few miles away."

"You expect us to _walk_ there?" Ashley B asked in disgust.

"Would you rather wait for zombies to come around to eat you?" T.J. asked her.

Ashley B and Ashley T exchanged a look.

"Come on, you hooligans," Miss Finster said, grabbing a jagged piece of metal from the wreckage of the bus. "We've got a lot of ground to cover."

* * *

After an hour of walking, everyone was getting restless.

"How much farther is it?" Hustler Kid asked.

"Not too much farther," Miss Finster told him. "We should reach it soon."

"And where exactly is this extraction zone?" T.J. asked.

"It's a military base," Miss Finster explained. "We'll be safe there until the extraction choppers come."

"How'd you manage to arrange all this for us?" Vince questioned her.

"I still have friends in the military," she said. "I called in a few favors."

They soon came over a hill and saw, in the distance, a large structure with several guard towers, huge walls, and security gates.

"There it is," Miss Finster said. "Once we get through those gates, we're safe. At least long enough for the extraction squad to come."

Everyone began breathing and sighing with relief.

"Omg, we made it!" Ashley B cheered. The cheers turned to screams as a zombie leaped onto her, sinking its teeth into her face.

"Run!" someone, possibly Gus, yelled as a second zombie took down Swinger Girl.

As T.J. turned to run, a zombie tackled him and tried to bite his arm. He cried out in terror, batting the zombie away, which did little to deter it. But as it lunged for him again, Miss Finster was there, stabbing it through the head with the sharp piece of metal she had gotten earlier.

"I said run, boy!" she ordered again as she turned back to face the other two zombies.

"You don't have to tell me twice!" T.J. responded, dashing off to join the others.

He caught up with Vince and his friends at the entrance, where everyone had stopped.

"What's wrong?" T.J. asked. Then he saw them. The bodies of soldiers lying in a line right in front of them.

"Oh no," he whispered.

"Looks like the zombies beat us here," said Vince.

"Highly unlikely Vince," Gretchen told him, kneeling next to the closest body. "Especially since this one here has a gunshot wound."

"He was _shot?"_ Gus questioned, "Why was he shot?"

"I don't know, Gus," T.J. replied.

"Everyone listen up!" Miss Finster barked as she arrived. "There's a control room in the base somewhere. Find it so you can call the extraction."

"You got it, Miss Finster," Randall said. But as T.J. turned to go with the others, Miss Finster said, "Detweiler! Hold up a minute."

He turned back to her. "What is it, Miss Finster?" he asked her.

"Detweiler, is there a grenade on one of those bodies there?"

T.J. looked down at the body at his feet. "Yeah."

"Good. Give it to me."

Frowning, T.J. did as he was told. "What do you want with a grenade, Miss Finster?" he asked her.

She paused. "I'm going to lure any nearby zombies away from here as I can to give you the best chance when the extraction comes."

"Wait, what?!" T.J. exclaimed. "No, Miss Finster! I can't believe I'm saying this, but we need you here!"

Miss Finster held out her hand, showing T.J. the small bite mark on her hand. "Look here, boy! I'm infected with whatever this is. I don't have much time left."

T.J. was stunned into silence.

"Now look here, Detweiler," Miss Finster went on. "Once I'm gone, everyone here is going to need a leader. And that leader is going to be you, boy."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I've seen how you've inspired your friends out on the playground. You got what it takes, Detweiler."

"Miss Finster, I…I can't."

"You're going to have to, Detweiler!" Miss Finster barked. "Especially if the extraction doesn't show!"

"Why wouldn't it show?"

"Look around you, boy. It's the end of the world. What's happening here is happening everywhere. Which means that the military has their hands full with too many things than to focus all their attention on a group of kids. It might be days, even weeks before they come for you. And that's assuming they even come at all."

"What if they don't come?" T.J. asked.

"Then you lead them, Detweiler. You lead them and you make sure that they survive. What happens next is up to you." Miss Finster turned to go. "You're one heck of a kid, Detweiler," she told him. "Always remember that."

With that, Miss Finster started off. T.J. sadly watched her go. Then he turned around and headed into the base.

* * *

He eventually found the others in the control room. Gretchen was busy speaking into a phone while everyone else looked on.

"You okay, Teej?" Vince asked as T.J. joined them.

"Yeah, I'm fine," T.J. said. "Where are the soldiers that are supposed to be stationed here?"

"No clue," Vince replied. "The place is deserted from what the security cameras can tell."

"Where's Miss Finster?" Randall asked suddenly.

T.J. just shook his head.

"She's…she's gone?"

"Yeah. She's gone."

The news hit everyone hard. Sure, none of them (except Randall) liked Miss Finster, but she was still the one that got them out of the school. She was still someone that they knew.

And now she was dead.

Gretchen hung up the phone and sat back in the chair.

"Well Gretchen?" T.J. said to her. "Are they coming?"

"…No," she said slowly. "I couldn't get through to anyone."

"You mean, we're not being rescued?" Digger Sam asked.

"Doesn't look that way," Vince confirmed.

"And what about the other busses?" Hustler Kid asked.

"We all planned to leave the school at about the same time," Butch said slowly. "So, the other busses, despite all taking different routes here, should've beaten us here by a lot. Them not being here means they aint ever coming."

"What does that mean?" asked Cornchip Girl.

"It means they're dead," Butch told her coldly. "Every last one of them is dead."

"So, Spinelli is…" Gus trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence.

"I wouldn't bet on her survival," Butch affirmed.

The news hit T.J. like a dodgeball thrown during recess. It couldn't be true. Spinelli couldn't be gone.

"What do we do now?" Mikey asked, breaking the silence.

"We should see if there's some sort of garage with working vehicles here, Vince suggested. "We fuel up, get whatever supplies there is here, and try to find a safe place."

"But Vince, none of us know how to drive!" Gus protested.

"I'll figure it out," Vince assured him. "How hard could it be?"

"No."

Everyone looked over at T.J.

"You got a plan, T.J.?" Vince asked him.

"Yeah, I got a plan." He looked at his fellow survivors. "Why should we leave this base? I mean, we already know that there aren't any zombies inside of it, or they would've come after us by now. It's a military base, so there's bound to be enough rations to last a while. So why leave?"

"What are you saying, T.J.?" Gretchen asked.

"I'm saying, let's just stay here," T.J. said to them. "We stay here, we make this our home. And if more survivors show up, well, I say we let them stay here too."

"What happens when we run out of supplies?" Gus questioned.

"Then we go out there and find more."

"Into the world of zombies?"

"I don't like it any more than you do, but we'll have to eventually."

"How are supposed to fight back against them, though?" Vince asked. "I don't think dodgeballs are going to cut it."

"It's a military base," Butch broke in. "They're probably going to be a few guns lying around."

"And we can easily teach ourselves how to use them," Hustler Kid added.

"You know, the more I'm hearing about this plan, the more I'm liking it," Digger Dave mentioned.

"Do you really think that this will work, Teej?" Vince asked.

"It'll have to," T.J. replied. "We have to do this. We have to survive and find other survivors. And who knows, maybe Spinelli will show up after all."

"Don't get your hopes up," Butch warned.

T.J. looked around again at his fellow survivors. Vince. Gretchen. Gus. Mikey. Hustler Kid. Ashley T. Butch. The Diggers. Cornchip Girl. Randall.

"Let's do it," he said. "I hereby dub this base…Fort Tender!"

They all cheered.

"Now then," T.J. said, cracking his knuckles. "Let's get to work."

* * *

_PRESENT DAY_

"After that," T.J. finished. "We got things up and running. Soon, survivors began stumbling upon the base. And here we are today."

Spinelli was silent.

"You okay, Spinelli?" T.J. asked her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Spinelli said. "I just can't believe that Finster gave herself up to make sure you survived."

"Yeah, it shocked me too." T.J. stood up. "I should go. I've got a lot of reports to look over."

"Wait." Spinelli caught his hand with her own. He looked down at her.

She sighed. "I'll tell you," she said to him. "I'll tell you what happened to me. But you got to swear on your life that you won't tell anyone else."

"I promise, Spinelli."

"Good," she stated. "I don't want all the terrible things I've gone through to be spread all over the base."

She took a deep breath. "I suppose I should begin with what happened that first day, after you all left me behind…"

* * *

**And there you have it! The story of T.J.'s survival! And surprise! The _next_ chapter is going to be the terrifying, shocking, and bloody tale of Ashley Spinelli surviving the apocalypse! Be warned, though: it's brutal and bloody. But, given that it's Spinelli we're talking about, shouldn't come as a surprise. **

**I hope you enjoyed watching just about every side character in the show getting killed. I'm particularly fond of how I depicted Lawson's death. I just figured that if anyone in the show would suffer zombification due to making a stupid decision, it would be him.**

**Anywho, I think that's about it. Make sure to drop a review and hit the follow button to stay updated on future chapters. Until next time, this is Guest 1138, reminding you that if you see creepy monsters approaching you (like clowns, for instance)...run. Just run. Ciao!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note:**

**No, I haven't been dragged underground by the undead. I've only been dragged down by school work. Side note: college research papers are _not_ fun. But now that the semester is over until January, I now have more time to write. Meaning, I have more time to work on this story and kill off all your favorite characters! And now comes time to begin to tell the tale of Spinelli's survival.**

**Before I get to the story, let me just say thank you to the number of people that favorited and/or followed this story in the past two months. I think I got about 4 or 5 new followers in the past two months. It's people like you that show all this support that helps me keep going. So thank you. **

**And now, without further udo...zombies!**

* * *

_DAY ONE_

Spinelli opened her eyes slowly, finding herself face down on the pavement. She groaned, feeling a throbbing sensation in the back of her head.

She got to her feet, touching the part in the back of her head, feeling a sharp sting of pain as she did so. When she brought her hand back, she saw it was red with blood.

"Oh man," she muttered to herself. "What happened?" She had a fuzzy memory of Butch telling a story about zombies, and the Ashleys going nuts. Kids running. Her trying to keep up with T.J. Falling. A sharp pain hitting her in the back of the head.

And now…

Spinelli looked around the playground as she struggled to her feet. It generally looked the same, aside from the bodies that were strewn everywhere. Kids that Spinelli had seen before but had never known their names. Kids that she knew the names of.

There was a suckling sound from nearby. Spinelli turned to see a zombie on top of a body, its face buried in its flesh.

As if it sensed her eyes on it, the zombie whipped its head in Spinelli's direction. Now Spinelli recognized the zombie as what was once Ashley Q. She snarled and started lunging towards her.

Panicking, Spinelli backpedaled, tripping over another body. Her fingers closed around something she realized was one of the Diggers' shovels.

As Ashley Q leaped at her, Spinelli swung the shovel har, smacking the zombie to the side. It fell and instantly righted itself, growling.

But Spinelli was ready. With a cry, she charged the zombie, whacking it over the head. This slammed the zombie to the ground, which gave her enough time to dig the sharp end of the shovel into Ashley Q's head.

Blood spattered as the zombie lay still. Spinelli panted, wiping a blood spot that had splashed her in the face.

T.J. She had to find T.J. and the others. But where were they? How long had she been knocked out?

She glanced over at the doors to the school, which had been blown open.

If she was going to get answers, it would be in there.

* * *

The school looked like a war zone. Blood seemed to be splattered on every wall, papers and pencils covered the ground, and bodies were in every hall.

But there didn't appear to be anyone still living in the building.

Spinelli decided to investigate the office next. After all, if there was any room in the school that might have information on what had happened to everyone, that would be the place.

The office was a mess, just like the rest of the building. What was different was that Spinelli could hear a faint whimpering sound coming from under the desk.

Hefting her shovel, Spinelli braced herself, and then leaped over the desk and landed on the other side, ready to smack whatever zombie was there. What she found instead with a cowering boy with glasses and a dress shirt and tie.

"Menlo?!" she gasped in astonishment.

Menlo shrank back against the bottom of the desk. "Don't let them get me!" he pleaded. "Don't let them get me!"

* * *

_"__Wait, wait, wait," T.J. interrupted. "Menlo? Seriously? He survived?"_

_"__Don't interrupt me, T.J.," Spinelli told him. "I'm trying to tell you a story here._

_"__Right. Sorry," he apologized. "Go on."_

* * *

"Calm down, Menlo, it's just me," Spinelli snapped. "What happened here? Where did everyone go?"

"Go?"

"Yes, Menlo," Spinelli growled. "Where did everyone go?"

"Gone," Menlo choked out. "Left on busses an hour ago."

"To where?"

Menlo only whimpered in response.

"All right, Menlo, either you start talking or I'm going to beat you up so hard you'll wish the zombies ate you."

"I don't know!" he shouted. "Some place that Miss Finster knew."

"Why didn't you go with them?"

"I—"

"Oh, forget it." She stood up. "You coming or what?"

"Coming? Where are we going?"

"Canada," she growled sarcastically. "Where do you think? Anywhere but here."

"No!" Menlo cried, backing up further under the desk. "That's where they are! They're going to get us!"

"Not if we get out of here now before they show up again," Spinelli growled, "Which you are making easier by shouting like that."

"I'm not going out there!" Menlo insisted.

Spinelli growled. "Fine," she said. "Stay here and get eaten for all I care."

She left the cowering Menlo under the desk and left the office, heading for the front doors. She figured that if the others had left on buses, they would've had to bring the buses up front where the road was.

She opened the doors and saw a horrific sight. Bodies sprawled everywhere. Blood staining the grass and the pavement. Several buses sitting in the road, their drivers missing or slumped over on the steering wheels.

"Oh man, those brain eaters really did a number on the place," Spinelli muttered.

She spotted something then on the ground. Something that made her heart stop.

"No, no, no, no," she pleaded, rushing down the steps and running to the discarded red cap on the ground.

"Teej," she whispered, picking up the cap. There was no way that he would've gone anywhere without his cap. At least not alive.

He was dead. He had to be.

* * *

_"__I've gone without my cap before," T.J. interrupted again. "Like when I sold it to Menlo for those stickers."_

_"__What did I say about interrupting?" Spinelli snapped. "Don't make me clobber you."_

* * *

Spinelli suddenly had another terrible thought enter her head.

"Mom. Dad," she realized. Were they okay? Were they alive?

She hefted the shovel and started to run. Away from the school. Away from the corpses of people she had known. Towards home.

* * *

The streets were eerily silent. There were fewer bodies around, meaning that either people escaped or a lot more were now zombies. Spinelli didn't care. She just wanted to get home and hopefully see her parents alive.

Her hopes dropped like a stone when she finally arrived at her home to see the front door knocked open.

"Mom! Dad!" she cried, rushing through the door and into the living room. She stopped short when she saw her parents whirl around the face her. The dead look in their eyes was all she needed to know.

"Oh no," she whispered. "Not you too."

Her dad snarled at her and started lunging at her. For a few painful seconds, Spinelli was frozen as she tried to think of what to do next. It was only when the zombie was about to tackle her that her survival instincts kicked in.

With a cry, Spinelli swung her shovel, digging deep into the zombie's skull. The thing that was once her father screeched before collapsing.

Her mother also lunged, nearly taking her off balance. But she yanked the shovel out and whacked her aside with it. Unfortunately, the suddenness of the action and the force of the blow caused her to lose her grip on the shovel.

Spinelli scampered back, tripping on something small and falling to her back as her mother rose up again. She instantly saw what she had tripped over, and just reacted. She didn't question why it was there, or why her parents must have had it.

Spinelli kicked the pistol over to her hand, grabbed it, and fired repeatedly at the zombie. Blood sprayed out with every hit. Despite her wild, random shooting, one round eventually hit the zombie in the head, putting her out of her misery.

Spinelli gasped with relief, panting in fear. Finally, the realization of what she had done, what she had seen this day, kicked in for real.

Her parents. Her friends. T.J. All gone.

And it was then that she finally let the tears come.

* * *

_T.J. was stunned. "You…killed your own parents?" _

_Spinelli bowed her head. _

_"__I'm…I'm so sorry, Spinelli," he told her._

_"__I didn't have a choice," she said quietly. _

_"__Anyone else would've done the same," he said. "You know that."_

_"__Maybe," she admitted. "But that wasn't even the worse part. The worse part is what happened in the years to come."_

* * *

**Oof. Its only been one day into the apocalypse and Spinelli already has several zombie kills racked up. Sure, two of them wereher own parents, but that still counts. **

**I originally planned to tell her entire story in one chapter, but then I decided it would be more fun to tortue you all by dividing it up into two chapters so you'll have to wait for more. What can I say? I love leaving people off on cliffhangers. **

**Anyway, hope you are all excited for what will come next for Spinelli. It's going to get darker for her. Count on that. **

**Anyway, that's about it from me. Make sure to leave a review and to hit that follow button to stay notified when new chapters come in. Until next time, this is Guest 1138, reminding you to always keep your balance when walking over a pit of lava. Ciao!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note:**

**So yeah...how bout that chaos going on in the world, eh?**

**The good news is that this leaves me more time (in between online class work) to work on these fanfics for you, my loyal fanbase! If you take a look at my profile, I wrote a big letter to you guys regarding all this. But I won't get into that right now, because we have some long overdue business to take care of. Like showing the rest of Spinelli's story on how she got where she is.**

**On a happier note, we just passed 2500 views for this story! We even have more views than my Total Drama fanfic that's been going on even longer than this story! Thank you to all for supporting this story by viewing it. It is thanks to fans like you that keeps me motivated to continue writing.**

**And now...zombies!**

* * *

_DAY TWO_

Spinelli hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep until she opened her eyes and saw her father's dead face. She was up in an instant, backing away as she remembered what had happened the previous day.

Her parents. Her friends. T.J. All gone. Dead.

She looked at the still open door, surprised that no zombies had entered the house during the night to eat her. Maybe they thought that she was already dead. Maybe all the zombies had moved on from the town. Or maybe they just weren't hungry.

Shaking these thoughts aside, Spinelli knew she had to come up with a game plan. Find a way to call for help. Do something, _anything _that would help her get out of this mess.

Step one, she realized, was to find water. She vaguely remembered someone—either Gretchen or Miss Grotke—telling her once that people could only go a few days without water before dying. So that would be the first thing she would do.

Spinelli got up and walked to the kitchen sink, twisting the knobs in hopes that the water was still flowing. Unfortunately for her, it wasn't.

"That whomps," she muttered. Now she would have to go back out into town to find water.

It slowly dawned on her that she was very much alone now. All her friends were gone. She was on her own in a city of the dead. It was almost like something out of a comic book. Except this was real, not fantasy.

Spinelli grabbed the gun off the floor where she had left it and examined it. Finding the button to eject the clip, she did so, discovering that the clip was empty.

"That whomps," she muttered again. Then she realized that if her parents had a gun, then they probably had extra bullets somewhere. All she had to do was find them.

She traveled through the house quickly, checking drawers and cabinets. Eventually, she found a drawer in her parents' rooms which, when she opened, revealed several boxes of bullets.

"Yes," she sighed with relief, grabbing a box and refilling the pistol clip She then slid the clip back into the gun and shoved it into her jacket pocket. On her way out the door, she picked up the shovel and hefted it over her shoulder.

The outside road was still quiet. Not a single soul, living or dead, was in sight. The quiet spooked Spinelli, especially given the situation. Normally the street would have even a few people driving down it, or some kids running down the sidewalk, playing.

Now, it was only silence.

Spinelli moved on, heading in the direction of the local store. If there was any water left, it would probably be there. On the way there, she passed by more bodies on the side of the road. Most were strangers; a few she vaguely knew from passing them on her way to school with the gang.

Spinelli avoided looking down at all the mutilated bodies, concentrating on the road ahead. She didn't even look at the school as she passed it. It was…too soon.

Before long, she had made it to the store. Already she could tell that there would be problems: the doors were wide open, and several windows were shattered.

And blood. Blood was everywhere.

Spinelli wasn't a girl that was easily spooked or scared. But after everything she had witnessed in the past 24 hours, she easily felt fear crawl up the back of her throat.

Swallowing, she entered the store and grabbed a discarded cart, trying hard not to throw up at the sight of the body next to it, which was completely dismembered beyond recognition.

The store was in rough shape. Half the contents of it were missing, presumably taken by previous looters. What was left was mostly scattered on the ground amongst a couple of more bodies.

Spinelli moved through this carnage, stepping over squished vegetables spilled fruit. She vaguely remembered something else that Gretchen had said about produce having a very short span of being edible. The canned goods would be the best thing to get. But first, the water.

She moved the cart to the back of the store where the water was kept. When she got there, she found that there were only two cases of it left.

"Glad I got here when I did," she muttered to herself, moving the cart over to the last two cases.

Suddenly, she felt something cold and sharp press into her back.

"Far enough, girlie," a cold voice said. "Back away. Nice and easy. Don't turn around; give me a reason, and I will kill you."

Spinelli froze, fear rising up once again. Before she realized what was happening, the man behind her knocked her aside and rushed forward, grabbing the water from the shelf.

"Hey, I found that first!" Spinelli protested.

"It's the apocalypse kid. No more rules or laws. Only the strong survive." The man loaded the water onto Spinelli's cart and approached her, brandishing his machete.

"And it aint the place for little girls like yourself." He raised the blade, ready to bring it down onto her. Until the zombie leaped on him from behind, of course.

The man screamed, dropping the machete as the zombie bit deep into his shoulder. Spinelli, in a rush of energy, grabbed the fallen blade and swung hard and fast, decapitating the zombie quickly before stabbing her attacker through the head.

She panted, staring down at the dead bodies and then at the blood splattered blade.

"Yeah," she said, examining it. "I'm keeping this."

* * *

_DAY FIVE_

Spinelli swung the machete one last time, cutting through the brain of the final zombie. It collapsed instantly alongside the other four zombies she had taken out.

She glowered at the undead bodies. If it wasn't for her trip wire she had set up on the door, they would've gotten into her house and…she didn't even want to think about it.

This incident made it clear to her: her house wasn't safe. The zombies had a clear way in that they could easily get through. She needed a safer place to hole up and wait for help to come.

The phone lines had gone down on the first day. She had no way of contacting anyone outside. She hadn't even seen a living person since the guy that attacked her at the store. For all she knew, she was the only person alive for miles.

But she had to hope that someone was out there. Eventually, the military would come through and get her out of this mess. But until then, she had to find a safe place to stay.

Kelso's? No, that was too exposed (though Spinelli did miss the Winger Dingers)

The Ashley Clubhouse? "Nah," she said aloud. Too girly. Even if it was basically a bunker, she wouldn't lower herself to Ashley level.

Old Rusty? No. Just…no.

Eventually, she settled on the treehouse. It was high up so zombies couldn't reach her. And it was big enough for her and her supplies.

The biggest challenge would be moving everything she had there. But after everything she'd been through this past few days, she knew she could handle it.

* * *

_DAY SEVEN_

It had taken her two days to move everything, but Spinelli was finally done. Everything that was useful to her—food, water, the remaining boxes of bullets that she had found in her house—was up there. She had even managed to get a mattress up there (which had taken her several hours all on its own).

She had also found some wood and had boarded the windows shut. The hammering noise had attracted zombies, but because they couldn't climb the tree, she didn't pay too much attention to them.

And so, there was only one thing left to do: wait.

* * *

_DAY 21_

It had been three weeks since the apocalypse started, and Spinelli had settled into a sort of routine.

Wake up. Eat. Work out. Eat. Rest. Scavenge. Sleep. Repeat.

Most of the time when she went out scavenging, she didn't find too much that was useful. She only went out once a week anyway. The most common item she could find was food. Her biggest score was when she decided to raid Kelso's and uncovered several large boxes of Winger Dingers.

* * *

_"__You had Winger Dingers in the treehouse?" T.J. interrupted. _

_Spinelli glared at him. _

_"__Right. Sorry," he apologized. "Continue."_

* * *

For most of the days, she found herself bored. There wasn't a whole lot to do in the apocalypse. So in between working out to keep her strength up, she read up on survival strategies she found in the local library.

Normally, she would frown at reading. But she needed to know how to live in a post-apocalyptic world. Without this knowledge, she would be dead.

And she needed to survive. For everyone. For T.J.

* * *

_DAY 69_

Winter was taking its toll on Spinelli. At first, things were decent enough. But it just got colder and colder, with snow coming down and blowing through the cracks in the boards.

She couldn't light a fire; it would burn down the tree house. All she could was curl up under the blankets she had found and pray that she would last until spring.

* * *

_MONTH FIVE_

Spinelli threw the knife and watched in satisfaction as it stuck in the wall of the treehouse.

At last, she had perfected her knife throwing skills.

But her training wasn't over yet. There were plenty of other combat skills to learn. And she was going to need them. She could feel it.

* * *

_MONTH TWELVE_

A year had passed. One year since all this started. And Spinelli was still alive.

She wasn't really sure why she was. Why was she alive when T.J., the best planner in the entire world, had been killed on the first day?

She didn't have the answers. All she had was the red cap. And the will to survive.

* * *

_YEAR SIX_

Spinelli moved cautiously through the streets, gun in hand. She had definitely seen the jeep come down this way. A jeep meant people. Actual, living people.

It had been over six years since the zombies came. Six years of Spinelli being on her own. She hadn't even seen a living soul since the first week of everything happening. So, she was getting pretty desperate on looking for someone to get her out of the city.

Sure, she could just walk it or find a car that still worked and just drive until she found a safer place. But she didn't know the first thing about driving a car. Knowing her luck, she'd probably accidentally drive it over a cliff.

But if these people could help, then she could finally get out of town. However, first she had to be sure that these were the right sort of people and not crazies like the man that had tried to kill her years ago.

She froze when she suddenly heard rough voices talking from around the corner. Spinelli crouched down and got closer, trying to make out what they were saying.

"Find anything, Lou?" one voice asked.

"Just little bits of food and whatnot, Jeff. Nothing all that great. This town musta been crap," a second voice said.

"Damn. We haven't been lucky enough to find a good town with good supplies for weeks."

"Yeah. Maybe Rick will find something worth taking."

Spinelli was beginning to think that these people were probably not the best people to hang around with. So she began to creep backwards, prepared to leave these strangers to their own devices.

But that was when she bumped into the third man, tripping and falling on her butt. For a moment, the two eyed each other. Then Spinelli moved, raising her gun arm.

But the man was quicker, kicking the pistol out of her hand and grabbing her arm. "Well, hello there, girlie," he said, grinning toothily.

Spinelli struggled, but the man's grip was like iron as he dragged her over to the other two men. "Look what I found," he said, throwing Spinelli down in front of the others.

"Well now, aint she a beut," the first man, Jeff, said, kneeling down to get a better look at her. Spinelli, in response, spat in his face and tried to leap onto him. But Lou, the second man, was on her in a flash, flipping her over on her back and pinning her to the ground.

"A feisty little thing, aint she?" he mocked as the other men laughed.

"Let me go, you jerks!" Spinelli yelled, struggling against her captors.

"Not until you give us something," Jeff told her, wiping her spit from his face. "Make her look presentable, boys!"

It didn't take a Gretchen for Spinelli to figure out what they were planning to do, even as Lou and Rick began to try to tear off her jacket. "No!" she screamed, lashing out with her foot, hitting Lou in his exposed groin.

Lou gasped in pain and sank to his knees, giving Spinelli an opening. Using her weight against Rick, she rolled over, forcing him down. In the same fluid movement, Spinelli reached into her boot and pulled out a knife, advancing on the three thugs.

She first targeted Rick, since he was closest to her. As his hand went for the gun on his belt, Spinelli struck, slashing his arm and then his throat. He gurgled for a minute and finally collapsed.

But Spinelli kept moving. She approached Lou, who was still on the ground, holding his groin. Before he could even register what was happening, she had stabbed him in the head, killing him instantly.

Jeff was now backing up. "Hey now, take it easy, little savage," he warned, reaching for his gun.

"Go to hell," Spinelli responded, throwing her knife into his chest. His eyes widened in surprise, and then closed as he slumped to the ground.

Spinelli, her senses still energized from the adrenaline rush, crossed over to where he lay and yanked the knife out of the dead man's body.

"Assholes," she said, spitting on Jeff once more. Then she spun on her heel and marched off.

* * *

_PRESENT DAY_

Spinelli shuddered slightly.

"You okay?" T.J. asked.

"Yeah, just…those men would've…I can't even imagine what would've happened if I hadn't gotten them off me."

T.J. didn't really know what to say, so he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You know what the worst part about these eight years was?" she asked. Before he could answer, she continued speaking. "The loneliness. Most of the time I was all by myself. Alone. No one to talk to."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Spinelli," T.J. apologized. "I should've sent someone to look for you sooner."

"You're darn right you should've," she agreed, though not in an angry way.

"So…what happened next?" T.J. asked.

"Not much," she replied. "Just scavenging…fighting zombies…doing whatever it took to survive."

T.J. nodded, glancing at his watch. "Oh wow, it's getting really late."

Spinelli yawned. "Yeah. It'll be good to sleep in a real bed again."

"Need help finding your way back to your room?"

She shook her head. "I think I can find my own way back."

"Okay then." T.J. paused. "Spinelli?"

"Yeah, Teej?"

"Just…" he swallowed, heat rising to his cheeks. "It's good to have you back."

Spinelli smiled softly. "What can I say? It's good to be back."

* * *

**And there you have it! Spinelli's harrowing tale of surviving eight long years on her own. And I assure you that this is the full story, and not a single important thing was left out that could have lasting impacts with certain characters later on in the story. *wink***

**But yeah, I'm going to try to update my fanfics more so you guys have more content to read as we try to get through this crisis together. **

**Anywho, that's all from me. Make sure to hit that follow/favorite button to stay informed about updates. Until next time, this is Guest 1138, reminding you to never stick your hand into an active blender. Ciao!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's note:**

**Motivated by the recent release of another chapter of hyperborea's Total Drama Zombie Apocalypse epic, "Undead Drama" (which I highly recommend you guys check out), here's the next chapter of my Recess Zombie Apocalypse epic. I just want to thank you all once again with all the support you've been giving me for this story. You guys rock!**

* * *

Spinelli had trouble sleeping that night, which surprised her. With a real bed now instead of just a random mattress, she would've expected that she would've dropped into a deep sleep right away.

No such luck. For some reason, she just tossed and turned for hours, not being able to get comfortable. After spending so long sleeping in the treehouse, with a clear window to the outside, sleeping in an interior room in a military base felt…weird.

After only being asleep for an hour, she gave up and got to her feet, slipping her jacket on. Now was as good of time as any to explore more of Fort Tender.

The hallways were mostly deserted, with only a few other people roaming the halls. Many of them, Spinelli could tell, were skinny and dressed in ragged clothes. Survivors, like her. The only difference was that they appeared to have come from places worse than she had.

A few stared at her as she passed. She wasn't surprised. She had been reported as dead for years, after all. To the survivors stuck at the base, she was probably a legend. Or maybe a ghost.

Eventually, her wanderings led her to a door marked "Control Room."

"So, this is where the magic happens," Spinelli muttered, pushing the door open and entering. She found herself in a large room filled with several computer monitors on tables, many of which were cracked or broken.

"Man, this place has seen better days," she muttered, running her hand down one of the monitors, which was covered in a thick layer of dust.

"It was a miracle that we got things up and running in the first place."

Spinelli whirled around, drawing her machete instantly.

"It's just me, Spinelli," the girl in the wheelchair said calmly.

"Cornchip Girl?" Spinelli asked, surprised. "You're alive too?"

"It's Theresa now," she told her. "And it's good to see you too."

Spinelli sheathed her machete. "How many more are still alive?" she asked. "Besides everyone that I've seen today."

"Just Butch."

"Figures," Spinelli muttered.

"I can see you're having trouble sleeping," Theresa noted.

"Didn't seem to ask for your opinion."

"It's okay, Spinelli. Everyone here has trouble sleeping. Especially on their first night here." Theresa wheeled over to the main console, which was displaying several security camera views of the outside of the base.

"How'd you end up like this?" Spinelli asked, glancing at Theresa's useless legs.

"A mission gone wrong. I got trapped under a pillar and surrounded by zombies. Since then, T.J. asked me to run communications and base management from here."

"Surrounded by zombies? How'd you escape without getting killed."

"Gus. He dived right into the horde of zombies to save me. He's a real hero."

"He's a real jackass," Spinelli muttered.

"This whole thing changed him, Spinelli," Theresa told her. "It changed us all. You can't hold that against him."

"Yeah, whatever." Spinelli glanced at the monitors. "Where's Gretchen?"

"In the lab, as usual. But I wouldn't go down there if I were you. She doesn't like to be disturbed."

"Where's the lab?"

"Just ride the elevator down to the deepest level of the base. But like I said, she doesn't—"

"Thanks, Theresa." Before Theresa could finish her sentence, Spinelli was already out the door.

Out of all her old friends from school, Gretchen was the only one that she hadn't seen yet. And after the disappointments of Vince and Gus, and the slight annoyance with Mikey's new way of life, she was kind of hoping Gretchen would at least talk to her.

She rode the elevator down to the lower levels alone, just like Theresa had said. When the doors finally opened on the lowest level, she found herself in a long, dark hallway, dimly lit, with a single door at the end of it.

_This is seriously where Gretchen is working? _Spinelli wondered as she walked down the hallway. Sure, back in the day some of her experiments she kept to herself (especially around the time of the science fair), but working in what was practically a bunker underneath a military base was taking things to a whole new level.

She reached the end of the hallway and tried the door handle, finding it locked. She cursed. "Gretch?" she called through the door. "Open up."

Silence greeted her.

"Gretchen, I know you're in there and awake. Open the damn door."

No answer. Then, Spinelli heard Gretchen's voice through the door. "Go away, Spinelli. I'm busy."

"Too busy to see your old friend?"

"Yes, as it happens. My work takes precedence over everything else, including friendships."

"Come on, Gretchen, you can't hide out down here all the time."

"It's all I've been doing for years now. And I can't stop my work now. The faster I find a cure, the more lives we save."

Spinelli paused. "A cure? You mean a cure for all of this?"

"Precisely. Now you see why it's imperative that I must focus on my work and not hear about the details of your illogical survival."

"Illogical survival?" Spinelli repeated.

"Indeed. The odds of anyone surviving out there without a well-fortified hideout are extremely low to the point of impossibility."

"So how do you explain all these other people that Teej picked up all this time?"

"Enough," Gretchen said. "Leave me to my work Spinelli, so that I may find an answer to this problem."

"Gretchen—" Spinelli started to say, but stopped, for she knew that Gretchen had already moved away from the door.

"Fine," she snapped, slamming a fist into the door. "Be that way! At least T.J. still cares about me!"

With that, she stormed off back to the elevator, returning to her room shortly after. She kicked her bed in frustration and flopped back down on it, burying her face into the frayed pillow in it.

Spinelli would never admit it, but she was really unhappy about all the changes her friends had gone through. Vince was indifferent, Gretchen uncaring, Gus a big angry jerk, and Mikey just…well, when she thought about it, Mikey being a self-proclaimed pastor in whatever religious crap was going on in the base made sense.

At least she still had T.J. T.J. was still there for her, and had probably been the only one at Fort Tender that still believed that she was alive. And the old feelings that Spinelli had been repressing all those years ago were starting to come back up.

Which was why, Spinelli knew, she could never tell him or anyone else about the biggest thing that had happened to her in the past eight years. Not if she didn't want to be chased away by the only people she had ever considered friends.

* * *

**No action really in this chapter, it's just here to wrap up Spinelli's arrival at the base, which took place over the course of the past several chapters. Literally, chapters 3-14 all take place over the course of one day. **

**I will say that there will be some more action in the next chapter. Maybe not with zombies (maybe), but there will be some action. Count on that.**

**Oh, and as you probably noticed, I gave a brief little mention about how Theresa/Cornchip girl is in a wheelchair. I thought about doing a flashback to describe this more in detail, but I decided that three chapters of flashback in a row was enough for now. But I will probably cover this event in a later chapter. **

**That's about it. Don't forget to hit that fav/follow button to stay informed on new updates to this story. Until next time, this is Guest 1138, reminding you that when you're confronted by a monster, when in doubt, go for the head. Ciao!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's note:**

**Yep, I'm back again, with some bad news and some good news. The bad news is that my usual summer job has been canceled due to this whole pandemic thing. Sad for me, but I'm working on getting a new summer job closer to home. After all, college textbooks are very expensive. The flipside to this is that with more time at home and access to my computer means updates to my fanfics will come a lot quicker than they would at my usual job. So expect more frequent updates over the next few months...maybe. You know how I am. I promise more frequent updates, and then it takes two months to write another chapter. Ah well.**

**But enough chit chat. Let's get on with this!**

* * *

T.J. woke up the next morning in a far better mood that he had been for the past several years. Finding a long lost friend the previous day had definitely helped.

He dressed quickly, adding his old red cap that Spinelli had saved to his outfit, and exited his room, heading for Spinelli's room. Despite having had a long conversation about their different experiences the previous night, he still wanted to catch up more with her. Plus, if she wanted to help out around the base, he needed to assign her a job.

He knocked on her door. "Spinelli? You in there?"

There was no answer.

He knocked again. "Spinelli?" He turned the knob upon hearing silence and found her room unlocked. When he poked his head inside, he found her room empty.

T.J. frowned. "Weird."

As he turned away, he heard someone calling out his name. Turning around, he saw Randall running towards him.

"What is it, Randall?" he asked.

"Just got the day's intelligence reports," he told him. "And yesterday's reports are still on your desk where you left them."

T.J. bit back a curse. He had been so excited with finding Spinelli that he had completely forgotten about the reports. "Leave them in my office, Randall. I'll look at them later."

"You got it, T.J." Randall turned to go.

"Hey, by the way, have you seen Spinelli anywhere?"

Randall thought about it for a moment. "I think I saw her going to the Box."

"The Box? Are you sure?"

"It is open battle day after all."

"Yeah, she's probably there," T.J. agreed. A chance to battle anyone she wanted was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Want me to go get her?"

"No thank you, Randall, I'll get her myself."

Randall nodded and headed off towards T.J.'s office, while T.J. turned and headed for the Box.

The Box served not only as a way for the survivors to train with one another in hand to hand combat, but also was a way for the people to blow off steam or settle disputes with one another. It made sense that Spinelli would quickly find it and get into a fight.

T.J. heard the sounds of cheering and chanting long before he made it to the Box. That was predictable, especially on open battle day. Off duty teams and other survivors often frequented the area all day.

He arrived at the Box to see a large crowd cheering at the fight that was taking place. Pushing his way through the crowd, he saw that it was indeed Spinelli in the square, sporting a black tank top and shorts, with strips of gauze wrapped around her bare knuckles.

Her opponent was a large, battle scarred man called Varn, who T.J. knew for his ferocity against zombies. He was strong enough to even rip limbs off the undead.

But from the looks of things here, he had finally met his match. Spinelli was covered in fresh bruises, and one of her eyes was blackened, but she was still fighting strong. Varn, on the other hand, appeared to be weakening. His nose was bleeding, and he had even more visible injuries than she did.

As T.J. watched, Varn took a swing at Spinelli, who ducked under the massive fist and grabbed his arm, trying to twist it and throw him to the ground. But the big man was strong and heavy. He grabbed Spinelli's own arm and threw her to the ground.

T.J. winced, but stayed where he was. The last thing he wanted to do was get in the middle of a Spinelli fight.

Varn raised his leg and tried to plant it on her chest to pin her, but Spinelli rolled to the side quickly, getting back on her feet. As Varn spun to face her, she leaped onto him, ramming her shoulder into his chest.

Varn stumbled and fell, with Spinelli still on top of him, pinning him to the ground. He tried to rise, but Spinelli's wrestling training had taught her the best position to pin a man and keep him pinned. She held him down tight as the crowd's cheering began growing in intensity.

In the end, Varn gave in, tapping the floor of the Box three times. The crowd roared as Spinelli raised her fist in victory and got off her opponent.

"Who's next?" she panted, looking around. "Anyone else want to take me on?"

The others stopped cheering and backed off, clearly not wanting to go toe to toe with her.

"Fine then," she said. "If anyone wants to take me on, you know where to find me." She stepped out of the Box and grabbed her jacket from a hook on the wall, putting it on as she walked over to where T.J. was standing.

"Impressive," T.J. complimented as the next two fighters stepped up into the Box.

"Thanks," she said, casually unwrapping the now blood-stained gauze around her knuckles. "And did you really have to name the fighting ring after Finster's box?"

"Hey, it fits," T.J. replied.

Spinelli shrugged. "You ever fight in there?"

"Sometimes, but mostly I'm too busy to come down here."

"And you're not busy right now?"

"Actually, I came down here to find you."

"You need me to tell more horror stories of life outside a fortified base?"

"Oh, no, no," T.J. quickly said. "Not unless you want to. I really just need to talk to you about your job here."

"Job?"

"Everyone here does their part to keep Fort Tender running smoothly," T.J. explained. "Scavenging patrols, guard duty, maintenance, and other jobs."

"And you need me to take one of these jobs."

T.J. nodded. "We should probably talk more about this in my office."

"Fine," Spinelli said, "Let's go."

T.J. looked at Spinelli's sweaty, bruised body. "Uh, you might want to take a shower first," he suggested. "Get cleaned up."

"You have _working showers _here?"

"Gretchen helped set it all up," T.J. explained. "It took some time, but—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, oughta my way!" Spinelli pushed past T.J. and ran off, presumably heading for the shower.

"Come find me in my office when you're done!" T.J. called after her.

As he turned to go, he failed to see Gus standing in the shadows, silently and angrily watching him leave.

* * *

Coldheart knew that he was simply being punished for his failures the previous day. The man that he had been sent to fetch was dangerous and unpredictable. But the Messiah wanted this man, and so he had to get him.

Coldheart pulled his motorcycle to a stop outside the small, makeshift hut in the middle of the desert, trying to ignore the piles of dead zombies and blood splatters that littered the area. He got off and walked over to the door. As he was about to knock, he heard a loud scream of pain coming from inside.

Coldheart was used to such screams from this man's previous work with the Messiah. They were the screams of his victims.

Before he could knock on the door, it opened, revealing the tall, balding figure of the most dangerous man left alive.

"Sorry to interrupt your fun," Coldheart said, briefly swallowing his fear. "But the Messiah requires your presence."

"For what?" the bald man growled.

"He wouldn't give me the details, but it involves torturing someone."

"Who?"

"Some kid that caused us trouble. Someone that he wants to either bring to his side or kill."

"What's his name?"

"T.J. Detweiler," Coldheart told him.

The bald man stiffened. "Detweiler, you say?"

"I take it you've had dealings with him before," Coldheart said, noticing his reaction.

The bald men clenched a fist. "Oh yes…in another lifetime. I will join you. Let me collect my equipment, and I will go to your camp."

"Fine," Coldheart said.

As he left, Coldheart smiled coldly. Whatever T.J. Detweiler had done to this man, he was going to regret it. Assuming he didn't decide to swear loyalty to the Messiah, of course.

No one survived his wrath. No one.

* * *

**Uh oh. That doesn't sound good. Who could this mysterious man be? All I'll say is that it's a character I've been very excited to write into this and how he would deal with the zombie apocalypse. It is indeed a Recess villain, one of several that will be making an appearance in the story. **

**With this bad guy making an appearance and the Messiah plotting, this more or less jump starts the next story arc of this tale. Expect more drama, more fighting, more bloodshed, and, of course, more zombies. **

**But anyway, that's all I have for you. Make sure you hit that favorite/follow button to stay informed on future updates. Until next time, this is Guest 1138, reminding you that fireworks are awesome...as long as you don't burn down the city. Ciao!**


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